Casting Moonshadows
by Moonsign
Summary: Lonely and outcast by his classmates, Remus wishes on a moonshadow for a friend who understands him. To his amazement his wish is answered not once, but three times, by his former enemies, the Marauders. SBRL and some JPLE as well, of course.
1. Blood and Moonshadows

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of Harry Potter's world and its wonderful characters. I own nothing but the plot I made up and a few OCs. **

**Summary: Lonely and outcast by his classmates, Remus wishes on a moonshadow for a friend who understands him. To his amazement his wish is answered not once, but three times by his former enemies, the Marauders. (Will be slash later on) **

_I'm being followed by a moonshadow,_

_moonshadow, moonshadow_

_Leaping and a hopping on a moonshadow,_

_moonshadow, moonshadow_

_And if I ever lose my eyes,_

_If my colours all run dry,_

_Yes, if I ever lose my eyes,_

_Hey… I won't have to cry no more_

_(Cat Stevens)_

**REMUS:**

Remus had always thought of memories as being like framed photographs on a shelf. Most of them were placed in the sun and faded over time. Sometimes the colour faded, leaving only a vague sense of the time; the outlines of a memory that changed a little with retelling. Sometimes it was the outlines that faded so the colour remained in bright, vivid blurs – a real sense of the time but no details.

Other memories were placed in the dark, overlaid by shadows. It was these memories – the ones you wanted to forget – that didn't lose their colour or potency over time.

For Remus, the most vivid of the shadow-memories was his memory of That Night. That Night had repercussions that sent vibrations that echoed and changed events for the rest of his life. This memory - the one he most wanted to fade and change - was the one that would always remain with him in the most vivid detail.

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What Remus always remembered about his mother, long after the other memories had faded and grown dull, was her love of the moonlight. As the potions mistress for their local apothecary, her job often required for her to venture out at night to collect ingredients. On these nights, when the sky was clear and the moon hung full-bellied and pregnant with light, she would creep into Remus's room without bothering to turn on the lights. Wrapping his outdoor cloak over his pyjamas and pressing his little feet into his shoes, she would take his hand and lead him out of the house, through the garden gate and into the thick woodland that backed onto their cottage.

As she worked, Serena Lupin would sing the Muggle songs of her childhood while Remus capered wildly at her side, joining in with his high childish soprano, and watching his moonshadow as it flickered and leapt among the darker shadows of the trees.

Remus knew that magic existed – he had grown up in a magical household after all – but the sight of the silver-blue moonshadows and the rich haunting sound of his mother's voice seemed to weave a different kind of magic in the forest. It was less certain, but more tangible. Electric and wild and at the same time safe and private.

Remus's father never joined them in their escapades. Those moonlit nights were a thing that had belonged between the two of them and no one else was allowed to intrude. Remus, being so young at the time, hadn't realised how much his father resented the fact that his wild, unpredictable wife loved her son so much more than anyone else in the world. John Lupin worshipped the ground she walked on and Serena, in turn, regarded him with affectionate tolerance.

And so he would watch darkly from the bedroom window as the two little figures danced hand in hand into the forest, snatches of Muggle songs fading in their wake.

"_Memory, all alone in the moonlight, has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone…"_

"_Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars! Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars…_

_"What a marvelous night for a moondance, with the stars up above in your eyes…"_

And most often, as they emerged from the forest again, hands clasped, eyes bright, choking on joy and wild magic as Remus's mother picked him up and whirled him above her head:

"_I'__m being followed by a moonshadow! Moonshadow, moonshadow! Leaping and a hopping on a moonshadow, moonshadow moonshadow!_

_And if I ever loose my hands, loose my plough, loose my lands. Yes, if I ever loose my hands, hey –__ I won'__t have to work no more…" (1)_

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It was perhaps no surprise, then, that on the night that John Lupin came home from his work at the Ministry with the news that the werewolf, Fenrir Grayback, had escaped from the secure ward for the criminally insane at St. Mungos, that Remus had turned to the moonlight for comfort.

On That Night – the night when everything changed in a rush of violence and blood and moonshadows, Remus crept out of bed on small, nightmare-trembly feet and down to hall to his parents' room in search of his mother to comfort him. He stopped when he heard the sound of arguing inside. He had never heard his parents arguing before. His father hated upsetting his mother and she was usually too lost in her own world to pay enough attention to an argument for it to become very heated.

Remus crept up to the door and pressed his ear against the wood.

"…Can't go in there now. Even for ingredients. Who knows where he is?" John was saying. "I can order them for you from work."

"But I _like _getting my own ingredients," Serena protested, her voice pleading, "It's the whole reason I became a potions mistress in the first place! How long until you catch him?"

"I don't _know!_" John snapped back. "If we knew where he bloody well was, don't you think we'd have caught him by now? He blames _me_ for putting him in there, because I was the one who caught him. He wants revenge on me and he's insane. Do you think I could live with myself if he attacked you to get to me?"

"It's not _fair_!"

"I don't _care_! You're _not _going out there, Serena, and that's final!"

Remus pulled away, a strange squirmy feeling in his belly that made him want to be sick. He didn't understand what they were talking about and he didn't dare interrupt them. As he crept back down the hall towards his room, he passed the hall window. The full moon hung close and heavy in the sky, casting a brilliant square moonbeam through the glass to bleach the wooden floor.

Remus felt a sudden rush of desire for Muggle songs and the moonshadows. He needed to feel that cold silver light on his head to help him forget the sounds of his parents' anger and the wriggling in his belly.

He crept downstairs and stood on tiptoe to draw the bolt on the back door. He opened it as quietly as he could and padded out into the back garden. He wasn't stupid, and knew he shouldn't go into the forest on his own, so he settled for shuffling through the thick cool grass of their lawn, murmuring softly to himself; "_I__'__m being followed by a moon shadow, moon shadow moon shadow. And if I ever loose my legs, I won'__t moan and I won'__t beg. Yes if I ever loose my legs. Hey –__ I won'__t have to walk no more…"_

He lay back in the thick grass and stared up at the full moon. Apart from his mother the full moon was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. It looked so solid – as though there was no way it should have been able to stay up in the sky without a string, and its pale glow seemed to come from another world. Under its round-bellied gaze, Remus felt the last shreds of his fear dissolve and disappear.

The silence was broken by a rustling in the hedgerow at the edge of the garden. Remus sat up and turned to stare at it, his heart beating wildly. All of a sudden he wasn't so sure he should be out here on his own. Who knew what kind of horrible creatures came out at night when his mother wasn't there to keep them away?

Frozen with fear, he stared hard at the bush that had rustled, and jumped when it moved again. Suddenly, two twin orbs of glimmering yellow-gold appeared in the shadows beside the bush. It was a moment before Remus realised they were eyes.

Spurred into action by his terror, Remus leaped to his feet and turned to run back towards the cottage as fast as his short legs could carry him. He wished more than anything that he had not come so far down their long garden. There was a soft thud behind him as the creature leapt from the cover of the bush and took off after him. He could hear the rhythmic thump at the footsteps grew closer to him and he glanced over his shoulder.

The sight made him stumble, trip, fall over. The creature was huge – _a wolf_, his mind screamed at him, throwing up pictures of the big, bad wolf in the fairytales his mother read to him at night. He screamed as it leaped at him, landing on his chest and knocking the air out of him. Tears of pain blurred the image of the wolf as it lunged at him with open jaws. Remus managed to scream a second time as he felt teeth sink into his shoulder and chest. The pain ripped white-hot and jagged through his whole body.

"_REMUS!_"

He felt the weight lifted as the wolf was flung off his chest. It flew through the air to land a few feet away. Panting and sobbing, Remus turned his head to see a figure with flyaway tawny hair place herself between him and the wolf. His mother raised her wand again, but she wasn't quick enough. The wolf rolled and leapt again, this time landing on Serena and bearing her to the ground.

"Mum…" Remus had meant to scream the word, but he could barely breathe from the pain, let alone talk. He watched paralyzed and horror stricken as those bloody white teeth lunged at her neck and ripped again and again.

"_Oh God! SERENA!_"

For the second time that night, the wolf was flung into the air. This time Remus saw his father standing there in his pajama bottoms. Even with his vision blurred with pain and blood loss, he noticed that John Lupin stood between his wife and the wolf, leaving his son open to another attack.

A beam of green light shot from John's wand towards the wolf who managed to leap out of the way in time. It hesitated for a moment, then as John raised his wand again, turned to lope back into the forest. John took off after him, his body crackling with magic and rage.

Remus turned again to look towards his mother. She was covered in blood. He had never seen so much blood. It looked thick and black in the moonlight. He rolled onto his stomach and the pain lanced through him. He whimpered quietly.

"Re…mus?"

Her voice was so weak. He had never heard her sound weak before.

"Rem…mus, my …baby?"

Her words were broken with shudders. Remus used all his strength to pull himself towards her. The pain was so terrible it seemed like a whole separate part of him now. After what seemed like a century, he reached her and peered down. To his horror he could see bone, tendon and muscle, torn and bloody at her throat.

"Live R…Remus." Serena managed. "P-promise me? Don't…let them t-turn you into a m-monster like him. The w-wolf hasn't changed you. Say it Remus!"

"W-wolf hasn't ch-changed me," Remus repeated tearfully, unable to look at her eyes, only at the gash in her neck.

"G-good boy. R-rememb-b-ber that."

She was getting fuzzy round the edges. Remus thought she might be saying something else, but he couldn't hear anymore. His head was filled with a fizzing sound that made it too heavy for his neck. It flopped forward into the blood-soaked grass by his mother's shoulder and he felt himself sucked backwards into unconsciousness.

**The songs quoted (In order) and their artists:**

_**Moonshadow**_** – Cat Stevens, **_**Memory**_** – Andrew Lloyd Webber, **_**Fly Me To The Moon**_** - ****Written by Bart Howard in 1954 and originally sung by Kaye Ballard, **_**Moondance – **_**Van Morrison, **


	2. A White Sheep Named Black

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of Harry Potter's world and its wonderful characters. I own nothing but the plot I made up and a few OCs. **

**Summary: Lonely and outcast by his classmates, Remus wishes on a moonshadow for a friend who understands him. To his amazement his wish is answered not once, but three times by his former enemies, the Marauders. Will be slash later on**

_I am what I am_

_And what I am needs no excuses_

_I deal my own deck_

_Sometimes the ace_

_Sometimes the deuces_

_It's my life and there's no return and no deposit_

_One life, so it's time to open up your closet_

_Life's not worth a damn 'till you can say_

_Hey, I am what I am_

_(Shirley Bassey)_

**SIRIUS:**

Sirius never meant to become a white sheep in the Moste Ancient and Noble Family Black. It had happened so gradually that, to begin with, he hadn't even noticed. It had started with normal childish defiance: Sirius had always been one to test boundries – needing to find out exactly how far he could push his mother before she snapped and punished him. Being brought up, for the most part, by the family house elves, Sirius longed to gain the attention of his haughty mother and almost permanently absent father, and he found that the most effective way to do this was by getting into trouble.

It started with little things. He stole a jar of enchanted colour-changing nail vanish from his cousin, Narsissa, and painted a handlebar moustache like Uncle Alphard's on his Grandmother's portrait which hung in the hall. Unfortunately for Geminus Black's portrait-self, the nail varnish was designed to be everlasting, so her portrait was taken down and hidden in the attic. Sirius was spanked and locked in the cellar for a day where he screamed and beat small fists against the door, afraid of the shadowy bulks of the wine-barrels and the skittering things in dark corners.

One Christmas eve a few months after his seventh birthday, he spent a quietly productive night chewing up thirteen packets of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum and sticking it into his cousin Bellatrix's hair. The resulting drama the next morning was well worth another spanking and the confiscation of his pocket money for two weeks.

Undeterred, and drunk on the attention and his creativity, Sirius pulled his next prank when the Malfoy family came to visit for a dinner party. Lucius Malfoy had sneered at Sirius's new green velvet dress robe and Sirius smiled brightly at him, then later enlisted the help of his little brother, Regulus, to lure Lucius away from the main party and into a spare room in which Geminus Black's old Swallowing Chair was stored. It was only much later, as the Malfoys were due to leave, that the older boy was discovered swallowed up to his neck by the massive furry-upholstered chair, swearing fluently at Sirius and Regulus who were happily painting the older boy's white-blonde locks with coloured streaks of glittery pink and violet food colouring.

Only his favourite cousin Andromeda, and Great Uncle Alphard seemed to appreciate his efforts towards causing chaos in the Moste Ancient and Noble House of Black. At the time he hadn't realised that they recognised in him the same defiance towards his family that they had found in themselves. As Sirius's mother pushed him further away from her and her ideals through constant criticism and punishment, Andromeda and Alphard quietly took him under their wings, creating a small flock of white sheep among the Black.

Sirius grew to love his two protectors more than his parents, and when Andromeda announced her engagement to the Muggleborn, Ted Tonks, three weeks before Sirius's tenth birthday and was consequently disowned and burnt off the Black Family Tree, Sirius's efforts at mischief turned from a bid for attention and into a subtle way to get revenge on behalf of his favourite cousin.

"You'll go the same way she did!" shrieked Walburga Black as she furiously directed the house elves to catch the twelve nifflers that were tearing the house apart in search of shiny items.

Sirius had saved his pocket money for months to afford the nifflers, and hoped his mother wasn't going to drown them.

"Are you _listening to me_ Sirius Orion Black? I swear I will _burn _you off the family tree if you keep behaving the way you do!"

"Well, maybe I don't _care_!" Sirius spat back, "Maybe I think that it would be _better _to be like Andromeda than like you!"

"DON'T YOU _DARE _SPEAK HER NAME IN THIS HOUSE AGAIN, THE FILTHY MUGGLE-LOVING _BLOOD TRAITOR!_"

Before Sirius had a chance to react, his mother had slapped him hard across the face with the back of her hand. He felt the big ring with the family crest cut into his cheek as he fell to the floor. His mother had never struck him before. Ordered him to be beaten, yes, but never actually struck him herself. Sirius's hatred hardened to diamond and lodged in his chest.

"I _like _Ted!" Sirius actually felt himself shaking with fury. "He's kind and funny and _I don__'__t care that he'__s a mudblood!_"

He opened his mouth to say more, but she leaned down and slapped him again, before picking him up and dragging him to the kitchen and throwing him into the cellar. He was there for two whole days, the longest time he could ever remember being punished for, and his hate and anger grew through each dark hour.

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Sirius was woke with a jerk in the early hours of the morning he was due to leave for Hogwarts. He sat up in bed, listening, and smiled when he heard the tentative knock the second time.

"Come in, Reg," he called softly to his little brother. The door creaked open and nine-year-old Regulus crept in and scrambled up onto his brother's bed.

"I don't want you to go to school," he whispered to Sirius. "What'll I do without you to protect me from Mum?"

"You don't need protection," Sirius said, grinning at his brother in the darkness. "I'm the bad one. You only sometimes get into trouble 'cos I make you."

"But I'll miss you here."

"I'll miss you too, Reg."

Sirius leant over and hugged him awkwardly around the shoulders. Neither of the boys were used to physical signs of affection and it felt awkward and warmly comforting all at once.

"You'll write to me?"

"Of course," Sirius said. "I'll write and tell you about all the brilliant pranks I plan to pull on all our slimy Slytherin cousins."

"But you're going to be a Slytherin. If you pull pranks on all of them, who will be your friend?"

Sirius leant back in his bed, regarding his little brother. Regulus' face looked pale and worried in the moonlight filtering through the curtains. He came to decision.

"Can you keep a secret?" Sirius asked, leaning forward and staring at Regulus earnestly.

"A secret?" Regulus said uncertainly. "What secret?"

"I'll only tell you if you promise to keep it."

"Okay. I promise." Regulus leant forward as well, his face eager.

"I am not going to _be _in Slytherin."

"_What?_"

"Shhh!" Sirius hissed, slapping his hand over his brother's mouth.

Regulus batted his hand away, staring at him open-mouthed. "What do you mean you won't be in Slytherin? _Everyone _is in Slytherin. You _can__'__t _be anywhere else. The only other person who was in another was Andromeda and she…" Regulus trailed away for a second as he suddenly understood. "_That__'__s _why isn't it? 'Cos of what Mum did to Andromeda! Come on Sirius! Do you want that to happen to you? She'll hate you – more than she already does! Besides, you can't _choose _what house to be in."

"Yes you can," Sirius said. "Well, not what house you will be in, but you can choose what house you _don'__t _want to be in. That's what Andromeda did. She said to the Sorting Hat that she didn't want to be in Slytherin, so it put her in Ravenclaw."

"She _didn'__t!_" Regulus whispered in tones of horrified awe.

"She did, too."

"But what if it doesn't put you in Ravenclaw? What if it puts you in Hufflepuff? Or _Gryffindor?_ What if it put you in Gryffindor? No one in our family would ever forgive you!"

"You would, wouldn't you?" Sirius asked, suddenly uncertain.

"You _want _to go into Gryffindor?" Regulus shifted away from Sirius on the bed, as though his disturbing Gryffindor tendencies were likely to be contagious.

"Please Reg, say you'll forgive me even if it puts me there." Sirius reached out to grab Regulus' wrist as he moved away.

"Mum'll kill me!"

"Please?"

"Sirius…" Regulus' voice faded as he turned to stare at the shaft of silver moonlight from the window. "Okay, okay. I promise I won't hate you. But I can't promise I'll stand up for you." He looked at Sirius with tears in his eyes. "I'm not brave like you. You _would _make a good Gryffindor. You're stubborn and brave and do stupid things without thinking. But I can't stand up to Mum like you can."

Sirius felt a clench of pain in his heart. He felt as though it had twisted and been yanked roughly up in his chest. He wondered if this was what Andromeda had felt as she watched her name being burnt off the family tree. He wanted to scream at Regulus, tell him that bothers should stand up for each other no matter what. But he couldn't. Regulus was right. He wasn't as brave as Sirius. Thinking about it, saying that he would support Sirius even secretly was the bravest thing he had ever done.

"It's okay, Regulus. As long as I know that you secretly don't hate me it'll be fine." He hesitated for a second, then said, "Even if I wanted to be in Slytherin, I have the feeling I couldn't be. Can you think of _any _Slytherin-ish qualities I have? At least this way I'll have made my choice."

Regulus didn't answer. He just leaned over and gave his brother another one of those awkward hugs before slipping out of the bed and tiptoing to the door.

"I really _will _miss you, you big, stupid Gryffindor," he whispered as he got there.

"Shut up, you git!" Sirius hissed back, that pain in his heart suddenly disappearing.

Regulus huffed a laugh and shut the door behind him.


	3. The Elusive Friend

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of Harry Potter's world and its wonderful characters. I own nothing but the plot I made up and a few OCs. **

_When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,_

_I all alone beweep my outcast state,_

_And trouble deaf Heaven with my bootless cries,_

_And look upon myself and curse my fate,_

_Wishing me like one more rich in hope_

_Featur'd like him, like him with friends posses'd_

_(Sonnet 29 – Shakespeare)_

**REMUS:**

The day Remus got his Hogwarts letter was the happiest day of his life. He was sitting at the breakfast table, eating a piece of toast as quickly as he could, shooting glances at father as he waited for the moment when John Lupin would look up, sneer in disgust, and tell him that he didn't like animals at the table and to get out of his sight. His father was reading The Daily Prophet and seemed engrossed in an article, so Remus allowed himself to slow down a little. Sometimes he only had time for a few bites before he was chased away, either to the back garden with its high walls so he couldn't escape, or to his room down in the basement of the cottage.

The basement had been his bedroom since That Night because the walls and doors were thick enough to contain a transformed werewolf. By now, Remus's mattress and other bedroom furnishings – sparse though they were - were permanently shredded and spotted with blood. Only his few most treasured possessions, which he stored on top of his wardrobe, were saved.

Sometimes Remus wondered if he wouldn't have been better off if his father _had _turned him over the Magical Creatures Department of the Ministry rather than keeping him trapped at home through some feeling of duty towards the dead wife he'd had loved so much. At times the cabin fever got so bad that Remus thought the wolf would tear right through his skin in an effort to escape.

Sometimes, when things really got too bad, he would creep into his mother's old potions lab and curl up under the table, imagining he could hear her low humming and the clinking of cauldrons and spoons as she worked. But even his thoughts of her were tainted with his memories of the moonlit trips into the forest behind their house. Whenever he thought of the moon now, his heart hammered in hate, fear and remembered pain and he could feel the wolf howling triumphantly inside. His occasional and very brief trips to Diagon Alley in London with his reluctant father were the highlights of his five miserable years as a werewolf.

It was while Remus was thinking longingly of another trip to Diagon Alley that the large tawny owl flew in through the half open back door. Remus watched it with vague interest, expecting it to drop a letter at his father's place as usual, and was amazed when it headed towards him instead, letting a letter fall onto his crumby plate.

"What's that?" His father demanded.

"I don't know." Remus picked up the letter gingerly. "It's addressed to me…" His voice trailed off as he noticed the coat of arms on the wax seal. It was divided into four sections, a lion, a badger, a eagle and a serpent residing in each one.

"What is it?" His father reached over and tried to snatch the letter away.

Remus clung to it and heart hammering. "I think it's from Hogwarts," he said, barely able to believe it. _Hogwarts! _He remembered his mother's stories of it: a massive castle up in Scotland full of magic, children, enchanted ceilings and disappearing stairs. He had never in his wildest dreams thought that they might allow him – a revolting little dark creature – within its walls.

John Lupin looked too shocked to even punish Remus for trying to evade his grasp. "Why would they let something like _you _go to Hogwarts?"

Remus opened the letter with trembling fingers.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr Lupin,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await you owl by no later than 31 July_

_Yours sincerely, _

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

On another page, a more personalised letter read,

_Mr Lupin,_

_We are aware of your Lycanthropy and should you choose to accept your place at Hogwarts, we will provide a safe place for your transformation each month as well as health care from our school healer, Poppy Pomfrey for any injuries you might sustain. You will have a meeting with the headmaster after the Sorting Feast on the first day of term to arrange the details. _

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

"Let me see that," John said, snatching the letters from his son's hand and scanning them with disbelief. "They offered you a place?"

Remus couldn't answer. He was still in shock. As the news gradually began to sink in, he felt a smile begin to form on his face and a strange kind of tightness built in his chest. Those letters not only accepted him into Hogwarts, but also wrote to him as though he were a human being rather than an animal. Remus had had very little contact with anyone except for his father in the years following That Night and he was amazed that someone who didn't even know him would treat him this way.

Suddenly, for the first time in many years, he remembered his mother's voice as she died.

_"Don't let them turn you into a monster like him. The wolf hasn't changed you. Say it Remus!"_

"The wolf hasn't changed me," he repeated now, voice reverent.

His father glared at him, hatred hot in amber eyes. For some reason he looked furious.

"You're still a dark creature," he said, low and shaking. "This doesn't make you human. This doesn't make you like us. You're an animal and a murderer. If it weren't for you, Serena would still be alive. You think the wolf hasn't changed you? Just look in the mirror, boy."

Remus ducked his head. "Yes father."

"Don't ever forget it!"

_As if I could, _Remus thought, glancing down at his upper arm that was bandaged from his transformation a few days ago. _As if I ever could. _

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Many weeks later, Remus found himself standing uncertainly between platforms nine and ten at King's Cross station. He was dressed in faded Muggle clothing and dragged a battered trunk behind him. After Fenrir Greyback's attack, John Lupin hadn't been able to face working for the Ministry anymore and as a result, money was always tight. His father had reluctantly taken Remus to Diagon Alley for his school supplies a few weeks before, and although all his belongings were second-hand, they were more than Remus could ever remember owning before.

John Lupin had loaded his son onto the Knight Bus that morning, with a few reluctant instructions for how to get onto the platform, yet Remus couldn'y quite find the courage to take that last step. Having been shut away from the world for most of his life, he found so many people and so much space around him almost more than he could take. It was like finding himself gasping for breath after running to hard, even though the breaths themselves burned and ached in his chest and part of him longed to stop breathing altogther.

As he stared at the barrier, a woman and a boy with very messy black hair and glasses approached. The boy was dragging a trunk behind him that looked shiny and new and had the name J.M. Potter engraved on the front.

The woman glanced at Remus as they approached and took in his trunk and lost expression.

"Are you also new, love?" she asked him.

Remus was so terrified at being addressed like a human by a stranger, that he could only stare at her dumbly.

She glanced down at the ticket which was crumpled in his left hand and obviously caught a glimpse of the station platform, because she put a hand between his shoulder blades and gave him a gentle shove towards the barrier.

"Just walk straight through," she directed him.

Remus wordlessly obeyed, towing his trunk behind him. He closed his eyes as he neared the barrier and sped up a little, bracing himself for the impact. When none came, he opened his eyes and found himself on a new platform, surrounded by chattering students and parents, trunks and hooting owls secured in their cages. He stared around in wonder. It was like Diagon Alley, but even noisier. A huge red steam train stood waiting for the students to board.

"Where are you parents, love?"

He swung round to see the woman and the black-haired boy standing behind him again.

"Aren't they here to see you off?"

The thought of his father standing with him now, looking proud of him, giving him a kiss goodbye was so ridiculous that Remus felt a bubble of bitter laughter well up in his chest. To his horror, it didn't stop there, and emerged from his mouth in a harsh grating sound that sounded wrong and rough and odd.

He obviously wasn't the only one who thought so, because the woman took a worried step back and the black-haired boy suddenly looked furious.

"Don't laugh at my mother!" he said angrily, "How dare you!"

"James, don't – " The woman began, but Remus had already stopped laughing as quickly as he had started. He felt a sudden, desperate urge to get away, and turned to as fast as he could towards the nearest train door, dragging his trunk behind him. Since most of the students were still on the platform, there were plenty of free compartments and Remus slipped into one of these nearly sobbing relief. He shoved his trunk under his seat and sat down, shrinking away from the window so he was shielded by curtains as he stared out at the station.

He knew he should have talked politely to the lady. He knew he shouldn't have laughed, or that he should have stayed and explained why he had. But he had panicked and now the black-haired boy hated him and his mother thought he was rude or insane.

Slowly the train began to fill up. A few people glanced in his compartment, and seeing him, moved on. At last, a small boy who looked to be about Remus's age with black greasy hair and a rather large nose stalked in. He glanced witheringly at Remus, shoved a trunk under the bench opposite and sat down on it, pulling out a battered book that Remus recognised as the first year Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook. He began to read.

Remus watched him uncertainly. He knew that in order to make friends he needed to actually speak to people, but he wished he'd had more practice.

"Hello?" he tried.

The boy raised dark eyes from his book and looked at Remus with the air of a zoologist waiting to see if an unusual animal was about to start barking.

"My name is Remus Lupin," Remus said, his hands clenching into nervous fists in his lap.

"Severus Snape," the boy said, before turning his eyes back to his book.

Remus wondered whether this meant they were friends, now. What did friends do? Did they just sit together like this? Did they talk? He thought he should allow Severus Snape to make the next move, but the boy just sat there again, engrossed in his book.

There was a loud thud from outside outside, a muttered exclamation of pain, and the door to their compartment slid opened again. To Remus' dismay, it was the messy-haired boy off the platform, lugging his heavy trunk behind him.

"Can I sit here?" he asked, glancing towards Snape. Then he spotted Remus huddled in the corner. "Oh it's you," he said with disgust. "You little git - you upset my mother!"

"I did nothing to your mother," Snape snapped, looking up from his book.

"Not you, him." The boy pointed at Remus.

"I-I didn't m-mean – " Remus stuttered, glancing towards Snape. He didn't want his new friend to think he was crazy.

"You can't even talk properly," the messy-haired boy said, flicked a withering look over Remus's hunched form. "I can't think how – "

"No, you may not sit here," Snape interrupted. "You're rude and you talk too much."

"No one asked your opinion, slime-ball."

Snape sneered and turned back to his book.

The boy blinked, then turned to Remus again. "You deserve each other!" he said, voice harsh. "No wonder your parents didn't come and see you off. They probably didn't want to admit you were their son!"

Remus felt a flare of hurt and rage rise in him, and the wolf woke and peered through his eyes. It whispered at him to leap at the boy and hammer him into the ground until that messy hair was matted with blood...he fought it. He wanted to stay here. He wanted to go to Hogwarts and be normal like everyone else. He wanted the wolf not to have changed him.

_Stay back, _he thought desperately to the raging wolf within him, _Stay away, leave me, I don't need you. Stay until you have to come. Please, please, stay back. _

"You _are _crazy!" the boy said, standing over him.

It was only then Remus realised he had been muttering out loud. His fists were clenched and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"Hey, what's going on?"

All three turned their heads towards the new voice. It was a small boy like themselves with glossy black hair and smoky grey eyes. He was peering out of the compartment on the opposite side of the corridor with interest.

"This kid is insane," The messy-haired boy stated, pointing an accusing finger in Remus's direction. Remus resisted the urge to bite it.

"You can come sit in here if you like," the new boy offered. "I'm Sirius Black. You _have _to be a Potter. I'd know the hair and glasses anywhere."

"Black?" asked the Potter boy. "As in Moste Ancient – "

"and Noble House of Black blah blah rhubbarb and custard…yes," Black said, making a face.

When Potter looked doubtful, Black gestured to Snape and Remus. "Would you rather sit in there?" he asked.

Potter shrugged and picked up the end of his trunk again, dragging it across the corridor to Black's compartment. "I'm James Potter, by the way. You were right."

They both laughed and the door slammed shut behind them. Remus felt himself relaxing.

"Thank you," he murmured to Snape.

"I didn't do it for you," Snape said, without looking up from his book. "I didn't like him. He was rude and loud and had Gryffindor written all over him."

"Is that a bad thing?" Remus asked, remembering that both his parents had been in Ravenclaw.

"Of course," Snape sneered. "Who would want to be in Gyffindor? They're thickheaded, brash and idiotic. The only house worth being in is Slytherin."

Remus didn't answer. He had avidly read _Hogwarts: A History _over the summer, and knew a lot about the four different houses. He didn't want to be in Slytherin. They were known for their prejudice and pureblood principles. If a werewolf was discovered amongst them, Remus was terrified of what would happen. He didn't want to be in Ravenclaw either. They were too good at solving puzzles, and they were bound to put together what his monthly disappearances meant sooner rather than later. He had thought that Gryffindor had sounded ideal, but if that Potter boy was an indication of the kind of people that went into that house, he didn't want to be there either. Perhaps he could ask to be sorted into Hufflepuff. The thought was almost comical. A werewolf in Hufflepuff.

Neither he, nor Snape spoke again as the train meandered its way up central England and towards the wilds of Scotland.


	4. Reputations and Invisibility Cloaks

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of Harry Potter's world and its wonderful characters. I own nothing but the plot I made up and a few OCs. **

_You could learn a lot from crayons. _

_Some are sharp, some are pretty._

_ Some are dull while others are bright._

_ Some have weird names. _

_But we all have to learn to live in the same box._

_(__Debbie Graves Ratcliffe)_

**SIRIUS:**

Sirius's mother and Regulus accompanied him to the station on his first day of school. They stood close to the barrier of the platform, away from most of the crowd.

"Filled with mudbloods and half-bloods," Walburga stated, sneering at the other students and their parents. "It's disgusting."

Sirius didn't say anything. His stomach was churning with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as he stared at the red steam train that stood proudly on the tracks, belching white steam that drifted in clouds across the platform.

"And you," Walburga's long, manicured nails dug into his sensitive skin through his shirt. "If I hear any bad reports from you this year, you will be severely punished when you come home. Do you understand me?" Her cold, grey eyes gleamed with malice and dislike.

"Yes, Mum," he murmured, turning his head so he wouldn't have to look into her face. His eyes met with Regulus's who raised his eyebrows and mouthed the word 'Gryffindor'. Sirius winced and his mother shoved him away.

"Get on with it, then."

She and Regulus turned and went back through the barrier. Regulus glanced over his shoulder at the last minute and shot Sirius a sympathetic sort of look.

Sighing, Sirius turned and made his way towards the train. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost walked into the back of a woman with dark, auburn hair and hazel eyes who appeared to be talking rather sharply with her sullen-looking son. Sirius hadn't grown up in an obsessively pureblood family without being able to recognise the defining characteristics in all the oldest pureblood lines. The glasses and messy hair were unmistakeable, as was the colour of the woman's hair. The Potter men were known for their weakness for redheads.

"…No need to be so rude to the poor little thing," she was saying to the boy. "He probably didn't mean anything by it. He was nervous and alone. Really, James - have some compassion."

"He _laughed _at you, Mum!" The boy gestured angrily towards the train. "He had no right to do that! Even if he wasn't brought up as a wizard, Muggles _do _have manners."

The woman sighed and shook her head. She reached out and ruffled the boy's hair, before pulling him into a quick hug. "Let's not argue about it, it doesn't matter," she said. "Just try and have a good time and stay out of trouble. Don't go pranking the professors and getting detention in your first week, okay?"

Sirius's ears pricked up at the word 'pranking', and he looked at the boy with renewed interest. He was wearing a mischievous grin that looked about as innocent as a niffler in a Gringott's vault.

"As if I would!"

She laughed and ruffled his hair again, before pushing him towards the train. "Get on with you."

Sirius grinned to himself as he dragged his trunk away from the pair and onto the train. The Potters were known to be traitorous mudblood-lovers and supporters of the Dumbledore - exactly the kind of friends his mother would hate him to have. They were famous for being Gryffindors, and this one liked pranks as well. Sirius resolved to find the boy as soon as possible and make friends with him. He could think of all kinds of mischief they could get up to together.

He pulled his trunk along the corridor of the train, and peered into the nearest compartment. It only had one person in it – a small, rather chubby boy with a face of good-natured hopelessness and mousy-brown hair.

"Can I sit here?" Sirius asked, treating the boy to his most infectious grin.

The boy jumped a little and turned to the door. When he saw Sirius, he smiled shyly back. "Of course," he said. "It's just me in here."

Sirius sauntered in and shoved his trunk under his seat before sitting down and regarding the boy with interest.

"Are you a first year, too?" he asked.

The boy nodded. "Yes. I'm Peter Pettigrew."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Sirius Black." Sirius held out his hand and the boy stared at it.

"As in _the _Blacks? My Dad told me all about you."

Sirius rolled his eyes, his hand still out. "We're not all the same, you know. I have no intention of being put into Slytherin."

"Really?" The boy looked amazed. "Why? Won't you get into trouble with your family?

"I don't really care," Sirius said airily.

The boy looked suitable impressed and reached out to shake his hand. They were interrupted from further conversation, however, by angry voices from the compartment opposite their own. Sirius pulled the door open again and stared out with interest. The door to the opposite compartment was open and inside Sirius could see a boy with greasy black hair and a big nose holding a book, but not reading, as he watched the compartment's other two occupants.

Sirius immediately recognised Potter from the station. He was standing over a tiny, skinny boy with large amber eyes and longish gold-brown tawny hair who appeared to be having a fit of some sort. His eyes were glassy and he was muttering "Stay back. Stay away, leave me, I don't need you. Stay until you have to come. Please, please…"

"You _are _crazy!" the Potter boy said, staring at him with an expression of great discomfort.

"Hey, what's going on?" Sirius asked, breaking the tense atmosphere.

All three boys turned to look at him. Potter scowled and pointed to the muttering boy with a furious finger. "This kid is insane!"

Sirius looked at the other boy who seemed to have snapped out of his trance and was now staring at him with those wide, disturbing amber eyes. Sirius couldn't deny that he did look a bit loopy. He also realised that this was his chance to befriend his fellow prankster.

"You can come sit in here if you like," he offered. "I'm Sirius Black. You _have _to be a Potter. I'd know the hair and glasses anywhere."

"Black?" asked Potter. "As in Moste Ancient – "

"and Noble House of Black blah blah rhubbarb and custard…yes." He pulled a face.

When Potter looked doubtful, Sirius gestured to Greasy-Git and Loopy. "Would you rather sit in there?"

Potter shrugged and picked up the end of his trunk again and dragging it across the corridor to Sirius and Peter's compartment. "I'm James Potter, by the way. You were right."

Sirius laughed and James chuckled as well, shutting the door behind him and shoving his trunk under the seat next to Peter.

"James Potter," he introduced himself, holding out his hand. Peter shook it.

"Peter Pettigrew."

"So what do you have against those two?" Sirius asked, jerking his thumb towards the other compartment.

James scowled towards the closed door of the compartment opposite. "My mother was trying to help that boy because he was alone at the station, and he just started laughing at her! What a little git."

Sirius frowned. "The lad with the creepy eyes?"

"He's mental," James insisted.

"Well, I can't argue with that, mate. He did look a bit loopy."

James relaxed a little and gave him a smile.

"So, do you like playing pranks?" Sirius asked, subtlety never being one of his greatest strengths.

James' face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Yeah! Do you?"

Sirius grinned. "I sneaked off when my mother took me to Diagon Alley and bought these."

He dragged his trunk out from under his seat and opened it to show the two other boys his secret stash of joke products from Zonko's London branch. James and Peter leant over the trunk, picking through dung bombs, exploding quills and trick parchment with delight.

"This is brilliant," James breathed. "My mother _never _lets me inside that shop. She says I'm enough trouble without the aid of commercially produced pranking products."

Sirius laughed. "My mother would hate me to have these as well." He felt a little of his excitement fade as he thought about her reaction if he was put into Gryffindor, but he was soon shaken from his musings by James who had discovered a bag of Tottenblow Togarts' Hair-Changing Toffees.

"Oh, the things I could do with stuff like this..."

"You're in luck," Sirius told him. "There's a massive Zonko's shop in Hogsmeade. We'll just have to find a way to sneak out of the school."

"Well there, mate, I might have an answer to your problems."

James yanked out his own trunk and dug around before pulling out a huge, silvery cape which he draped over his knees. They disappeared.

"Merlin's toenails," Peter whispered in awe, his attention diverted from Sirius' trunk.

"An invisibility cloak," Sirius breathed. "How on earth did you get hold of one of those?"

James laughed wickedly. "My father gave it to me. Without telling my mother, of course. He said that if I was planning on getting up to mischief, I should at least make sure I wasn't caught."

"Brilliant!" Peter looked at James and Sirius with something close to hero-worship. "Are you really going to play pranks and things on people?"

"Oh yes," Sirius said enthusiasm bubbling like a cauldron in his belly. "We can start with that greasy-headed git that James here took a shine to."

Three heads bent together, bursts of laughter and delight drifting from their compartment and into Remus's where he sat staring silently out of the window while Snape read on the seat oppisite. He felt a tug of longing so strong that it made his chest physically hurt. It was a particularly painful longing because he knew it would never be satisfied


	5. Hallucinating DeadEyed Horses

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of Harry Potter's world and its wonderful characters. I own nothing but the plot I made up and a few OCs. **

_Peeves didn't look up until Professor Lupin was two feet away,_

_Then he wriggled his curly-toed feet and broke into song._

_"Loony, loopy Lupin," Peeves sang. "Loony, loopy Lupin,loony, loopy Lupin – "_

_Rude and unmanageable as he always was, _

_Peeves usually showed some respect towards teachers._

_Everyone looked quickly at Professor Lupin to see how he would take this;_

_To their surprise, he was still smiling. _

_(Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban – J.K. Rowling)_

**REMUS:**

It seemed like an age before the train finally arrived at Hogsmeade station. Snape had spent the whole journey with his nose buried in the DADA book and Remus hadn't dared to interrupt him. He didn't want his new friend to talk to him like he'd talked to Potter.

When they got off the train, it was dark and raining. Iron-grey clouds cloaked the sky above Hogsmeade and blocked out any view of the stars or the moon. Remus, however, didn't need to be able to see the moon to know what stage it was in. It tugged at the very marrow of his bones as it waxed and waned, the same way it tugged on the tides of the sea.

The first years huddled together in the rain while the older students all hurried towards carriages that waited for them outside the station. Remus nearly choked with fright when he saw the creatures that were pulling them - massive and black and skeletal against the Scottish sky. They didn't really look like horses, but it was the closest description Remus could get to them. One of them shook its great bat-like wings sending a spray of water into the air and then turned its head to stare at Remus with sightless white eyes.

With a yelp, he tried to back away, tripping over someone's foot and landing on someone else, bearing both of them to the ground. Raising himself up onto his elbows, Remus stared down into wide grey eyes, the exact colour of the clouds above them. To his dismay, he recognised Sirius Black. That meant –

"You again!"

Someone yanked him off Black by the back of his tatty robe and Remus struggled to his feet as Potter held out a hand to help Black up.

"What exactly is your problem?" Potter glared as Remus tried to wipe the mud off his robes and only succeeded in smearing it.

"I –I just…" Remus began.

"Leave it, I'm fine." Black glanced at Remus, then back at Potter. "It wasn't deliberate."

"No," Remus said, desperate to redeem himself. "It was those horrible horse things pulling the carriages. One _looked _at me."

"Horse things?" Black asked, turning to stare at the carriage, then back at Remus.

"Yes!"

"There's nothing there, mate."

"There is, there is," Remus said, desperately. "Can't you see them? They're skinny and black and they have all wings and white eyes!"

Now Black, Potter and the chubby mousy-haired boy were staring at him as though he were insane.

"I _told _you he was mental," Potter hissed.

"Firs' years!"

They were interrupted by the hugest man that Remus had ever seen. He towered over the group of sodden first years, looking down on them with beetling black eyes. His beard was wild and thick and he wore the biggest, bulkiest coat Remus had ever seen. Remus didn't even dare to back away or look surprised. He was beginning to wonder if he really was insane. Perhaps that was another symptom of being a Dark Creature that his father had not bothered to imform him about.

"Bloody hell!" Potter's voice was both awed and unashamedly loud. "That bloke is _massive_!"

Remus breathed a sigh of relief and joined the rest of the first years in backing up a step.

"Don' be scared!" The giant man bellowed, "I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds a' Hogwarts. Firs' years have teh cross the lake to get to the school. Into the boats! C'mon! No more'n four to a boat!"

Remus looked around for Snape, hoping to share a boat with his new friend, but the boy was nowhere to be seen. He ran up and down the bank of the lake searching each of the boats until he spotted Snape, already sitting in a boat with three other students. Staring out at them, Remus felt betrayed and resigned at the same time. After all, if even his father didn't like him, why should a stranger he had only just met want to spend time with him? Snape didn't even notice his gaze, seeming intent on staring out over the lake.

"Lost your new friend? Maybe even greasy gits have some taste."

Remus swung round and found himself face to face again with Potter, Black and the chubby boy sitting in a boat nearby. Potter was smirking and the other two looked amused. Remus was glad he was so used to controlling his strong emotions. He kept his face entirely blank as he turned to glance at Snape again.

"C'mon! In yeh go. The boats're abou' to leave."

Before Remus could react, he felt a pair of massive hands grasp him under the armpit and lift him into the boat beside the chubby boy.

"Who said you could share a boat with us?" Potter demanded.

Remus couldn't bring himself to answer. He slouched down in his seat and tried to avoid their eyes as the boats began to move, seemingly of their own accord. Remus stared out over the rain-splattered lake as the other three leaned together and talked in low voices so he couldn't hear. When Hogwarts castle came into view, however, he caught his breath, his bad mood seeming to melt away. The castle and its grounds lay sprawled across the Scottish landscape, pointed turrets jutting towards the sky and golden-lit windows twinkling against the silhouetted walls. It looked like a fairy tale castle, shimmering and blurred round the edges because of the rain.

Hogwarts disappeared briefly as the boats carried them through a tunnel that led to a little underground harbor before it reappeared again in all its glory. Remus couldn't drag his eyes away from the castle as he clambered out of the boat, transfixed.

The biggest thing he could ever remember seeing before was the forest backing onto their house. He had been to London and Diagon alley, but he had seen that all in small sections – a shop at a time, divided up by the twisting street. The forest had been bigger, but the last time he had seen that he'd been six years old and caught up in the moonshadow magic with his mother. He had sensed the space around him, but had never really laid eyes on it as the trees had disappeared away into the blackness of the night.

Hogwarts was different. It gave the impression of grandeur and majesty and mystery and looming and loads of other big, impressive words that Remus knew from the books he had sneaked out of his father's study. The main doors alone were so huge that at least four Hagrids could have stood on one another's heads and still not had to have ducked to get through.

"Come along firs' years!" Hagrid shooed the huddle of students towards the Great Doors where a tall, black-haired witch dressed in formal robes and wearing a prim expression waited for them.

"I'm Professor McGonagall," she said, her expression stern. "If you will follow me, it's time for the Sorting."

The first years trailed after her and into the Great Hall. Remus' robe was second hand and too big for him, and being weighed down by rainwater seemed to make it droop even further onto the floor. As they entered the Great Hall he was so entranced by the sight that he tripped over the hem and staggered into the back of a girl with dripping red hair who swung around and grabbed his arm.

"Sorry," Remus muttered, mortified. Why couldn't he act normal like the others? _Because you aren__'__t normal, _a voice in his head pointed out. _You__'__re a monster. You not__ human. _

"It's okay," she said kindly, peering at him through vivid green eyes. "Look at the ceiling!"

As she released his arm he tilted his head back and almost stumbled again. It was incredible! Storm clouds rolled fitfully above them, pouring with rain that disappeared before it was even halfway down the room. Candles floated like bright wax stars below the clouds, lighting the room with a golden glow.

"Come along first years!" Professor McGonagall said, hurrying the gaping students along to the front of the hall.

On a platform near the front, stood a three-legged stool with a tatty hat placed on it. As the first years lined up nervous and dripping before it, Remus sneaked a look out at the rest of the hall. There were four long tables crowded with students of varying ages. Above each of the table hung the banner of their house. A snake for Slytherin, an eagle for Ravenclaw, a badger for Hufflepuff and a lion for Gryffindor.

Remus felt himself begin to tremble with nervousness. He had _never _seen so many people in one place before. He remembered reading about the Sorting Hat in _Hogwarts: A History_. Would he have to sit here in front of all these people and put it on? What if he fainted with fright?

"Bottlewurt, Bernard."

Professor McGonagall's voice suddenly echoed around the hall and the first boy in line stumbled up to the stool and jammed the hat on his head.

A slit in the hat's brim opened and a voice called out, "Ravenclaw!"

The table of Ravenclaws cheered as the boy hurried to join them, blushing furiously.

"Parkinson, Adora."

"Slytherin!"

"Smith, Jennifer."

"Hufflepuff!"

Remus felt his heart rate speed up as the line grew shorter.

"Potter, James."

He watched with a churning stomach as the boy sauntered up to the stool, appearing completely unafraid. He jammed the hat on his head and almost as soon as it had touched his messy locks, the word, "Gryffindor!" echoed around the room.

"Black, Sirius."

There was a stir from the Slytherin table as Black headed towards the stool and put the hat on his head. There was a long pause and Black's eyes were screwed shut as if he were thinking very, very hard. Eventually, the hat stirred and announced,

"Gryffindor!"

There were gasps from all corners of the room, and for a moment, Black just sat on the stool as though he couldn't believe what he had heard. Remus glanced towards the Slytherin table where many of its members were sending murderous glares towards the boy and then the Gryffindor table where they all seemed too shocked even to cheer.

Suddenly, a small, rather sodden figure with very messy hair rose at the Gryffindor table and climbed up onto his bench.

"Woohoo! Go Sirius!" Potter yelled, seeming completely self-assured and unembarrassed. "I knew you could do it, mate!"

As if this broke the spell, Black's face broke out into a triumphant grin and he sauntered over to the Gryffindor table, which had broken out into cheers while many of its occupants send rude gestures towards the Slytherins.

Remus felt something in his heart twist. It had been the way the Potter had stood up for his new friend and cheered, not caring what anyone else thought. Remus glanced towards Snape who was standing a few people in front of him. He was sneering in Potter's direction, having apparently forgotten all about Remus.

"Silence!" Professor McGonagall called. "The sooner the Sorting is over, the sooner you can eat."

The hall immediately grew quiet.

"Pettigrew, Peter."

There was a very long pause, then: "Gryffindor!"

Black and Potter cheered loudly as the chubby boy from the boat went to join them, beaming proudly.

There were a few more before, "Snape, Severus."

The hat had barely touched the boy's greasy hair before it announced, "Slytherin!"

Remus felt his heart sink. Where on earth was he going to be put? What if he wasn't put anywhere at all? What if he sat on there for hours and hours until the brim opened and called out, "Werewolf!" He felt his calm mask beginning to slip.

There was now only the red-haired girl in front of him.

"Evans, Lily!"

"Gryffindor!"

Lily smiled delightedly as she skipped towards the Gryffindor table and took a seat.

"Lupin, Remus!"

He felt as though his heart would hammer itself right out of his ribcage as he tentatively approached the stool. He tripped over the edge of his hem again, staggering a little as sniggers rose from the students.

He sat down feeling utterly miserable and pulled the hat down over his head.

"Well, well," a voice said in his head. "A little wolf. That's very unusual."

_I'__m sorry! _Remus thought desperately, _Please don__'__t tell anyone!_

"I'm only here to Sort you," the voice said, sounding calm and unflustered. "Now where to put you?"

_Hufflepuff! _Remus begged silently.

"Hufflepuff?" The Sorting Hat sounded amused. "No I don't think Hufflepuff suits you at all. Nor does Slytherin. You don't have slyness needed to fit into the snake house. And the prejudice you will encounter there would not do at all. Ravenclaw – well. It's a possibility, but still not quite right. Let's see. You are brave. You are kind and loyal, though you haven't been given the opportunity to see this yet. And plenty of courage. I can see that. It took plenty of courage for you just to come here. Yes, I think you will do well in Gryffindor."

_Not Gryffindor, _Remus thought, his heart sinking. _Not with them!_

"Trust me," the hat whispered, then, "Gryffindor!" it announced aloud, and Remus felt his heart plummet and settle in his stomach where it thumped and ached painfully.

He pulled the hat off his head and stumbled towards the Gryffindor table, completely unaware of the applause from his new house. Sliding quietly into the chair at the first year's end of the table, he saw Potter, Black and Pettigrew staring at him in shock.

"It put you in Gryffindor?" said Black incredulously.

"But you're loopy!" Pettigrew agreed.

Potter said nothing. He scowled at his empty plate, ignoring Remus. As the last of the students were sorted, Remus also stared down at the polished wood of the table. He was using every ounce of his acting skills to keep his face looking calm and neutral when all he wanted to do was cry.


	6. Birthing Friendships and Vendettas

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of Harry Potter's world and its wonderful characters. I own nothing but the plot I made up and a few OCs. **

_The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand,_

_ nor the kindly smile, nor the joy of companionship;_

_ it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one _

_when he discovers that someone else believes in him _

_and is willing to trust him with friendship.  
-Ralph Waldo Emerson_

**SIRIUS:**

It was the happiest moment in Sirius' life when James Potter stood on his bench and cheered for him. Sirius had begged the Sorting Hat to put him into Gryffindor, but as the words had emitted from that slit in the brim and he had seen the hate-filled glares from the Slytherin table, and the shocked, silent Gryffindors he had suddenly wondered if he'd made the most terrible mistake.

He'd considered standing up and screaming; "It's all a mistake! I should be in Slytherin!" but found himself entirely unable to move a muscle in the awful silence that had filled the hall following the initial rush of gasps and whispers.

Then James had climbed up onto the bench and his young voice had echoed through the hall. "Woohoo! Go Sirius! I knew you could do it mate!"

And suddenly it wasn't a mistake at all. It was a _brave_ and _brilliant__, _and James, who had not even known him a full day, had stood up for him –literally – in spite of the fact that it might have meant them both being ostracised by the whole school. It was the most wonderful thing anyone had ever done for Sirius without wanting anything in return. It had been a noble, impulsive, thick-headed and completely Gryffindor gesture of friendship. And it was something that Sirius would have done himself, had he been in the same position.

Grinning and feeling light-headed with happiness as the Gryffindor table seemed to erupt with cheers and sneers (aimed at the Slytherins), Sirius headed over to James. When he sat down, James hammered him delightedly on his back.

"Good thing too," the messy-haired boy said, grinning. "I would have been awful to go to all that trouble of making a friend only to have him turn into a bloody Slytherin."

"All that trouble?" Sirius asked, raising a mocking eyebrow. "I'll have you know you should be honoured to be friends to the heir of the Moste Ancient and Noble Family Black."

"More like the soon-to-be-exiled-heir of the Moste Awful and Nauseating Family Black," James said. He ducked Sirius's punch as the Gryffindor table erupted in cheers again and they saw Peter Pettigrew heading towards their table.

"Way to go, mate," Sirius said to him. "I knew you couldn't _really _be that wet."

James awarded Peter the same delighted back-pounding treatment he had inflicted on Sirius, making the plump boy's nose hit the table rather painfully, but still failing to wipe the proud grin off his face.

"This is brilliant," James said, eyes shining. "We'll be the most famous pranksters of the school, _ever_! We'll be put in _Hogwarts: A History_ and bards will write songs about us. We'll have some type of brilliant sweet named after us! We'll – "

"Hey," Sirius interrupted. "Look, it's Greay Git from the train."

James broke off his heroic ramble to focus on the Sorting again. Sure enough, the boy with the greasy hair and big nose was seated on the stool and the hat was just opening its brim to announce, "Slytherin!"

"Like that's surprising," Sirius said, making a face.

They watched as the smirking boy headed towards the Slytherin table.

"Severus Snape." Peter put in. "Even his name sounds evil and slimy."

"More like Snivellus," Sirius said, and the three of them sniggered.

"Evans, Lily." Professor McGonagall called from the front of the hall.

Sirius began to snigger even harder. "Look, James. It's your future wife."

"What?"

"I know you Potters always go for redheads. You're famous for it. It's how I recognised you on the station - your mother had red hair. That and yours looked like a bird's nest."

"She's _not_ my future wife," James said indignantly, staring at the girl as the hat placed her in Gryffindor and she headed towards their table.

"Yeah, right," Sirius grinned. "And I come from a family of Muggles, and you always look neat and tidy and Dumbledore is really troll wearing a very well-placed false beard and big robe and… and…" he looked round for further inspiration. "And that crazy kid from the train is gonna be placed in Gryffindor."

"I am _not_ going to marry Evans," James said, blushing scarlet.

"Huh! See!" Sirius pointed a triumphant finger. "You even remember her name. I bet you ten chocolate frogs and a dungbomb you end up marrying her."

"Hey guys, look who it is," Peter interrupted.

James and Sirius turned back to the Sorting again just as McGonagall read out "Lupin, Remus."

"_Lupin?_" James said, "Well, that fits. Loopy Lupin."

The boy staggered over his overly-large and tatty robe on his way to the stool and the hall filled with titters. Lupin flushed scarlet as he dropped down onto the stool and Sirius saw his wide, amber eyes sweeping the room to land on their little group. He put the hat down on his head and screwed up his face. He sat still for a long time, his hands flexing into fists on his lap. Sirius suddenly wondered if this boy was arguing with the Sorting Hat as he had done.

Eventually, after a long breathless wait by those in the hall, the slit opened and the hat announced, "Gryffindor!"

The three of them froze with shock.

"_What?_" James demanded.

"He's in _Gryffindor_?"

For a moment, Sirius thought that perhaps Lupin had argued his way into Gryffindor as he had. The boy was heading towards their table, his face completely blank of any expression, but his gaze flicked to Sirius for a second and Sirius saw something distraught in his eyes. Had he been trying to argue his way _out_? Sirius couldn't imagine it. But how could the boy have been meant for Gryffindor? He was tiny, obviously terrified and completely insane.

"It put you in Gryffindor?" Sirius demanded as he sat down. Lupin didn't answer, his eyes fixed on the table next to his plate.

"But you're loopy," Peter said.

The boy didn't move or meet their eyes.

"Well done, Remus!"

Sirius, James and Peter turned to where Lily Evans was sitting a few places away. Lupin twitched a little and looked warily at her, as though afraid she would burst out laughing. Sirius exchanged a look with James who rolled his eyes and made a circular hand gesture by his head to indicate his view on Lupin's sanity.

"Thanks," Remus said quietly to Lily, a little too late too late to be normal. She ginned at him and his lips tilted up at the corners as if his own mouth was trying to smile, but didn't really know how. In spite of this, however, Sirius noticed that Remus's eyes filled with something like happiness. No, not happiness - it was closer to relief; as though someone had threatened him with being tortured to death, but had changed their mind and offered to cut off his head quickly instead. Then the eyes dropped back to Lupin's plate as the Sorting continued, and James poked Sirius in the side.

"You don't think he'll be in our dorm, do you?" he whispered, glaring at Lupin.

"Probably," Sirius answered. "It isn't a big year, so there're only a few boys in each House. I dunno about Gryffindor, but I heard in Slytherin there's usually two or four people to a dorm. How many of us are in Gryffindor? Six? Us three, Lupin, that Longbottom kid and Michael Douglas over there. If the three of us want to stay together, I guess we'll have to have a four-bed dorm."

"Well, I hope we end up with one of the other two," Peter said. "Longbottom doesn't look too bad."

"Shh!" Evans hissed . "Look, the Sorting's finished."

They turned their attention to the front where Dumbledore was getting to his feet. Sirius had heard a lot about Dumbledore from his parents. 'A Muggle-loving fool' they said, and 'losing his marbles'. Sirius's mother insisted that they only kept Dumbledore on at Hogwarts as a favour to him for defeating Grindelwald all those years ago.

Sirius couldn't deny that the man did look a little eccentric, dressed as he was in a violently purple robe with glittering silver patterns. But he also seemed to exude an aura of power and wisdom. His twinkling blue eyes behind their half moon glasses swept over the hall, taking in the new students. They settled briefly on Sirius and his smile seemed to widen behind his long, white beard.

"Welcome to all our new students!" he said, with a sweeping gesture that took in the whole Hall. "You will be with us for seven years at Hogwarts and hope find them to be both educational and enjoyable. Just a few announcements before we sit down to our lovely feast. The Forbidden Forest at the edge of the Hogwarts grounds is - just as its name suggests - forbidden. To all students. Mr Filch had got a new list of forbidden items hanging on his office door which you would do well to familiarise yourself with including, I believe, strangling skipping robes, dungbombs and green gobbler balls - an ingenious invention that nevertheless caused our poor Mr. Filch a great deal of trouble last year. This year, we are also privileged to have a rare new tree planted on the grounds of Hogwarts called the Whomping Willow. I must ask each and every one of you to stay away from this tree. It is dangerous and could seriously injure or even kill anyone who gets too near to it. Anyone found to be approaching this tree will be severely punished. And now, in response to all those rumbling stomachs, let's eat!"

The tables in front of them were suddenly groaning under the weight of massive amounts of food. Sirius felt his eyes widen in spite of himself. There was everything here: roast turkey, potatoes, beef stew, vegetables, rice, steak and kidney pudding and large boiled hams. He even thought he spotted a tray of chocolate éclairs a little way down the table.

"I'm so hungry I could eat a hippogriff," Peter announced, launching in and beginning to fill his plate.

Sirius and James laughed as they attacked the food as well. "I know what you mean, mate," James said, his mouth full of turkey.

By the time the meal was over, Sirius doubted that he could make it up to the dorms, he was so full. He sat back on his bench and noticed that Professor McGonagall was approaching their table.

"Mr. Lupin?" she said, causing the boy to jump violently and raise his eyes from his barely filled plate.

"The Headmaster would like to see you in his office. If you will follow me?"

Lupin looked unsurprised but very nervous as he scrambled up from the table and followed the professor towards the main doors.

"What do you think that's about?" Sirius asked.

"Probably needs to tell Loopy Lupin to take his potions so he doesn't completely lose it," James said, smirking.

Peter laughed, but Sirius just frowned in thought as he stared after the boy.

"Settle down, ladies and gentlemen," Dumbledore said from the front of the room. "First years will follow the prefects to their dorms. Once there, they will give you the passwords into your House common rooms. Off you go!"

Sirius clambered out of his seat and hurried with James and Peter towards the dark-haired prefect who stood at the end of their table.

"I'm Charlotte," she said, smiling down at the first years. "Follow me, please and don't wonder off. The castle is very big and it's easy to get lost."

They trailed after her through a maze of corridors, up and down moving staircases and through random tapestries. Sirius wondered if he would ever begin to know his way around the castle. Did they send out search parties for first years who went missing?

"I wonder if there are secret passages," James whispered, as they made their way up the final staircase to the Gryffindor tower.

Sirius was certain that there probably were, but had the feeling they should probably focus on the non-secret ones before tackling any others.

When they finally stopped, they found themselves facing the portrait of a very fat lady in a pink dress.

"You need to give the Fat Lady the password in order to get into the common room," Charlotte told them. "Right now it's _mugwort_."

The portrait swung open and the first years followed Charlotte through the portrait hole. The common room was amazing: decorated in crimson and gold, filled with squashy sofas and armchairs and lined with tables and chairs around the walls. There was a huge fireplace roaring at one end of the room, and two staircases leading up to the dorms at the other.

"Boy's dorms up that way," Charlotte said, pointing up one staircase. "If you follow Simon here, he'll show you the way. Girls, you come with me."

The boys followed the new prefect up the stairs.

"Let's see," Simon said, reading off a piece of parchment in his hand, "Longbottom and Douglas in here," he pointed at one door, "and the rest of you in here."

He looked down at them and frowned. "We're missing one. Where'd he go? We didn't lose him already, did we?"

"He's talking to the headmaster," Sirius told him.

The three of them trailed into the dormitory. James was scowling. "I can't believe we have to share a room with Loopy Lupin for _seven years_."

"I know," Sirius said. "But it doesn't mean we have to be friends with him."

"Good, 'cause I'm not going to."

They found their trunks were already in place at the ends of their beds, and Sirius flopped onto his, exhausted. "I'm so tired," he yawned. "I could just go to sleep right now."

"Me too," Peter said from his bed, "and I think I must have picked up a stomach bug from somewhere because I feel a bit sick."

"And it had nothing to do with the fact you managed to polish off three steak and kidney puddings, five roast potatoes, a bowl of stew, a plate of carrots and an entire platter of turkey?" James asked.

Sirius laughed. "It's a good thing the food disappeared when it did. Otherwise you would have popped and they would have been scraping bits of you off the wall for months."

"It's a stomach bug," Peter protested. "I'm probably dying of some awful disease and all you can do is laugh. What if the Slytherins tried to poison me?"

"Did you see how happy Snivellus was to be in Slytherin?" Sirius asked, making a face. "As if anyone would actually _choose _to be there."

James shuddered. "Imagine having to share a dorm with him and that _hair_."

"Maybe it would look better in green. You know. To go with the slime." Sirius grinned suddenly, opening his trunk and digging through it. "I think one of my Tottenblow Hair-Changing Toffees does that."

James and Peter hurried over to join Sirius in rooting through his trunk, all lethal stomach illnesses forgotten.

It was a while afterwards, when the floor was littered with joke products, scattered clothes and pieces of parchment, that the door opened and they turned to see Lupin standing there. He blinked at them uncertainly, then crept over to his bed. His trunk, Sirius noticed, was scratched and weathered and looked about a hundred years old.

"Don't think just because you're in here with us we're going to be your friends, Loopy," James said, frowning at the boy. "Where were you?"

"I-I was with the headmaster," the boy said, sitting on the edge of his bed and staring down as his hands. "My m-mother is ill, so I have to leave for a few days s-sometimes to go and s-see her. We were just sorting out the d-details."

"Oh." James began to look a little guilty and Sirius couldn't help noticing how small Lupin looked, hunched on the edge of his bed. Even though his robe was several sizes too big for him, Sirius could see he was very thin underneath. Lupin stood up opened his trunk, pulling out a pair of pyjamas and heading to the bathroom. The door clicked behind him.

"Maybe you should lay off him a bit?" Sirius suggested quietly. "We don't have to be friends with him, but he can't help being crazy. Let's just leave him alone."

James looked uncomfortable. "He laughed at my mother, though."

"He is insane. Merlin only knows why he was laughing."

James sighed. "Fine. I'll lay off him. As long as we don't have to be friends with him."

They ignored Lupin as he crept back into the room dressed in long pyjamas. He crawled into bed and closed his curtains around him.

Sirius yawned himself. "I might turn in as well," he said. "Classes start tomorrow and I'm absolutely beat."

"Yeah," Peter agreed, and he and James helped Sirius stuff most of the mess back into his trunk.

That night, Sirius dreamed his mother turned into a banshee and screamed at his window until James and Peter's heads exploded and bits of steak and kidney pudding flew everywhere. Lupin laughed until Sirius shook him hard by the shoulders over and over again before realising the smaller boy wasn't actually laughing, but crying, and that his tears were made of blood.


	7. Gather That Magic

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of Harry Potter's world and its wonderful characters. I own nothing but the plot I made up and a few OCs. **

_"I wish that I could share myself, not just some disguise that takes the place of the me within, hiding from your eyes!" (Peter Rosen)_

**REMUS:**

Remus woke up very early on the first day of school so that he could be in and out of the shower before his dorm mates stirred. He definitely didn't want any of them seeing his scarred and battered body.

He dug around in his trunk as quietly as possible for his clothes and toiletries and slipped out from between his curtains. His excitement at being in Howarts, instead of wearing off, only grew when he crept into the bathroom. The room was massive – bigger than the whole of the Lupins' cottage all by itself. It was a glittering sight of grey stone, white marble and gleaming metalwork.

Remus went to one of the shower cubicles and pulled the curtain across. He undressed, hanging his pyjamas on a hook in the wall with his uniform, then stepped into the shower and reached for the tap.

The pain was sudden and excruciating, and he recognised it straight away - the taps were made of silver. He stared down at his hand which, even with such brief contact, was raw-looking and blistered. He was so _stupid_. Why hadn't he been paying attention? A lapse like that in company could lead to his secret being discovered. He could only be thankful that the cutlery they had used last night had obviously been stainless steel.

He picked up his washcloth gingerly in his unhurt hand and used it to turn the taps on. The water streamed out, warm and comforting and Remus washed with clumsily, trying to ignore the stinging of the burn. He dressed quickly, heading back the dormitory just as Potter was making his way towards the bathroom looking scruffy and sleep-fogged. He sneered half-heartedly at Remus as he passed.

Remus sighed and went to his bed, packing away his pyjamas and rooting around for his healing potions in his trunk. He pulled out one that would help to sooth his silver burn and unscrewed the lid with difficulty. It was already half-empty. After hearing about his Hogwarts letter his father had been even more liberal with his punishments than usual and Remus's body was still mottled with little round healing burns where John Lupin had pressed a silver spoon to his skin.

That was another good thing about being at Hogwarts, he thought, as he began to rub the lotion onto his palm and fingers. Even if he had no friends, he doubted that anyone would hurt him in the way that his father did. Even the prospect of being beaten up was preferable to the intense burn of silver on his flesh.

"What did you do to your hand?"

Remus jumped at the voice and glanced up to see Sirius Black standing near the end of his bed, watching Remus with a curious expression.

"I…er…I burnt it. The water. It was hot."

_Stupid, stupid. When will you learn to think? You let him see…_

"Oh."

There was a long silence and Black opened his mouth as though he were about to speak again, but the bathroom door opened and Potter sauntered out.

"Morning!" he said, spotting Black and looking much more cheerful after his shower. "Go have a shower. The water's hot, but I've heard it gets used up quickly."

Remus saw Black's grey eyes flick once more to the burn on his hand, which he closed into a fist in spite of the pain it caused. The bigger boy shrugged and turned to Potter with a scowl.

"Must you be so disgustingly cheerful this early in the morning?" he complained. "It's unseemly."

Potter laughed, unfazed. "You sound like my mother. If you hurry up I'll wait for you and we can head to breakfast together."

Sirius groaned and wrinkled his nose. "Fine. Wake Peter, will you? He hasn't even stirred yet."

Remus packed his things away, making sure his trunk was locked before slipping out of the room unnoticed by the other boys.

The Great Hall was buzzing with new-term chatter when he arrived. Remus slid onto the bench at the end of the Gryffindor table and eyed the platters of breakfast food with misgiving. The cutlery and dinner plates may be made of stainless steel, but the platters the food was served on were definitely silver. He could feel the heat against his hand when he waved it a couple of inches away from the nearest plate of sausages.

He wondered how he had missed it last night, then remembered that he'd been rather upset at the time. He could only be thankful that he had somehow managed to avoid touching the plates when he had dished up his food.

He glanced down the table at his fellow Gryffindors. Even the ones who looked as happy about being up as Black had, seemed to be eating enough food to floor an army. Remus felt sick thinking about eating that much. His father had never allowed him more than a slice of toast for breakfast. He leaned over and slid a piece carefully out of the silver toast rack in front of him and began to butter it.

"Remus Lupin?"

He glanced up to see Charlotte, the sixth-year Gryffindor prefect looking down at him.

"Yes?"

"Your timetable."

She handed him a piece of parchment and moved on to the red-haired Lily Evans. He stared down at it, heart hammering. Finally he'd be learning magic for real. He couldn't wait to be able to flick his wand at something and to have what he wished to come true. He wondered what his mother would have said if she could see him now, sitting here at the Gryffindor table like a real human person.

Breakfast was almost over by the time his dorm-mates made an appearance. Potter bounced in looking happy and wild-haired, followed by Pettigrew who stared round the hall in daylight for the first time with great interest, and Black who looked like the only thing that interested him at that moment was getting back into bed.

As soon as he spotted them, Remus stood up from the table, ready to head to his first Charms class. He really didn't want a run in with them this early in the morning on their first day of school.

He was out of luck however, because as soon as Potter saw him, his cheerful face twisted into a scowl and he glared at Remus. "What you looking at, Loopy?"

Remus winced at the nickname and backed away a little.

"James…" Sirius said sleepily, "lets just get something to eat, I'm starving!"

James glanced back at his friend, then shrugged and headed to the table, apparently forgetting about Remus who took advantage of this and escaped with relief. He spotted the prefect Charlotte again, talking to a second-year by the doors to the Great Hall and hesitantly approached.

"Could you tell me the way to Charms, please?" he asked her.

"Of course."

Remus was the first to appear outside the Charms classroom that morning, and he stood, hunched against the wall as he waited for others to arrive. When at last they were allowed in, he retreated as far away from Potter and his friends as possible and found himself seated near the middle of the class with Frank Longbottom.

Their teacher was a tiny little wizard called Professor Flitwick, who smiled at all of them and clapped his hands for attention.

"Today," he squeaked, "we're learning the levitation charm. _Wingardium Leviosa_."

He demonstrated the accompanying hand movement with his wand and a pinecone rose out of the basket on his desk and floated into the air. The students muttered their approval, clutching their wands and ready to try on their own.

At the Professor's nod, the class got to work. Remus' left hand hurt as he held his wand, but he found he didn't care. The thought that he would be able to do this charm made him almost dizzy with anticipation.

_And if you can do it well, _said a voice inside him that he always referred to as his Inner Marauder, _maybe you can do it really quickly and violently to Potter's trousers to give him a wedgie. That would certainly be entertaining. _

He tried to ignore the voice. As the name suggested, it had a tendency to comandeer his good sense and get him into trouble - something that had earned him hundreds of silver-burns from his father over the years.

"Are you okay?" Frank asked, staring at Remus with concern. Remus blinked and glanced at him.

"Um…yes."

"Only, you've had your wand up and your mouth open for ages and haven't said anything. I thought you might be ill."

"Er…uh, no." Remus felt himself flush a little.

"He can't help it. He's mental," Black put in helpfully, as he headed to the front of the classroom for another pinecone. Pettigrew had managed to burn both of theirs to cinders by jabbing them viciously with his wand.

Remus scowled at him and Black raised an eyebrow. "What, you're denying it?"

"Leave him alone, Black," Longbottom chimed in. "Even if he is crazy, it's none of your business."

"You try saying that when you have to share a room with him for seven years."

"Oh, bugger off," Longbottom said, raising his wand. "Look, I think Pettigrew's burnt a hole in your book bag."

Black swung round to see Pettigrew standing at their desk guiltily, surrounded by a cloud of black smoke.

"Pete!" he yelled. "I told you not to do anything until I got back. James, why didn't you watch him?"

"What am I - his mother?" Potter looked rather amused by the whole situation.

Black headed to the front desk, grabbed a couple of pinecones and raced back to his seat to avert any further disasters.

"So _are_ you crazy?" Frank asked Remus, looking at him with interest. "I've never met anyone crazy before."

"Er…" Remus was too thrown off by the fact that Frank didn't look too bothered by his apparent mental instability to be able to think up a suitable answer. "I was…er… just…g-gathering my magic together," he said in a moment of inspiration.

"Really?" Frank sounded doubtful. "You can do that?"

Remus glanced at his pinecone and turned his mind back both to the demonstration and to the Charms book he had read avidly over the summer in the three weeks he was locked in his dungeon bedroom. If there was one thing Remus _did _have going for him, it was a love of books and a brilliant memory.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

His pinecone shifted, then rose shakily into the air, growing steadier as Remus gained confidence until it bobbed and hovered above their heads.

"Brilliant!" Frank said. "Can you teach me to gather my magic?"


	8. Hidden Scars

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of Harry Potter's world and its wonderful characters. I own nothing but the plot I made up and a few OCs. **

_The scars of others should teach us caution_

_(St. Jerome)_

**SIRIUS:**

"I wonder what's wrong with him?" James said musingly as the three of them lounged in front of the common room fire that evening.

"Who?" Sirius asked, picking up a piece of coal off hearthrug he was lying on and flicking it into the fire.

"Loopy, of course."

Sirius raised his head to follow James' line of sight. Lupin was sitting alone at a table near the back of the common room, poring over his Transfiguration book, quill and parchment beside him.

"He looks okay to me," Sirius said, ready to flop back to the floor again.

"And me," Peter put in, from where he was curled up in a little ball on the armchair opposite James' sofa.

"I mean, I wonder why he can't seem to keep a friend," James explained. "We saw him sitting with Snivellus on the train and Snivellus wouldn't even look at him when we got onto the boats. Then I thought that maybe him and Longbottom were going to hit it off in Charms, cause I actually saw him _smile _for a bit there, but Longbottom wandered off with Michael Douglas again at lunch and Lupin was sitting on his own again."

Sirius tilted his head towards his friend. "You have been watching him disturbingly closely."

"There's something off about him."

"All this because you think he may have laughed at your Mum?" Peter asked, bemused.

"_No,_" James said. He glared at Peter. "I told you – I feel like there's something off about him, and if I have to share a room with him for the next seven years, I want to know what it is."

"Well, Snivellus isn't exactly friendly," Sirius pointed out. "Maybe all they did was sit in silence reading the whole way on the train."

"Well, that would still give them a common book-worm bond," James said, his expression stubborn. "And Loopy obviously thought so too. You both saw him running round looking for him when we were getting on the boats. He looked totally gutted when he saw Snivellus sitting with those other students."

"Well, it wouldn't have worked anyway," Peter said, "Snivellus got put into the snake pit where he belongs and we got stuck with Loopy."

"That's not the point," said James. "Even _Snape _– who no one likes – turned him down as a friend. And what about Longbottom?"

Sirius realised he wasn't going to be hearing the end of this any time soon and sighed. "Hey! Longbottom!" he yelled to their year-mate, who was playing exploding snap with Douglas on the floor near the portrait entrance.

Longbottom looked over to Sirius. "What?"

"Come here a second."

Longbottom looked reluctant so Sirius rolled over onto his stomach and made pleading eyes at him. "Please! We're not planning anything, honest!"

Longbottom still looked dubious, but he did approach the three friends. Sirius couldn't really blame him seeing as he had already had twenty points taken off Gryffindor for dropping a dung bomb into Parkinson's cauldron earlier that day in Potions.

"Well?" he asked, standing over Sirius and looking impatient.

"You 'n Lupin seemed to be getting on rather well in Charms earlier."

Longbottom looked bemused. "Yeah, so?"

"How come you aren't friends with him?" Peter asked. "Did he do something to you?"

"What?" Longbottom stared at them, forehead wrinkled in confusion. "What d'you mean 'do something'?"

"Well, you're obviously not friends with him, so we were wondering." Sirius waved vaguely in Lupin's direction. Lupin was looking up at them suspiciously, though Sirius knew he couldn't have heard what they were saying over the chatter of the other students.

"Just because we chatted in Charms doesn't mean we suddenly became best friends," Frank said. "He didn't do anything wrong. He's a nice lad." He looked around at them in irritation. "If you're so worried about him, why don't you invite him into your little gang?"

He turned and stalked back to his game of exploding snap again.

"See," Sirius said smugly to James, "nothing weird at all."

James didn't look convinced. "You've gotta admit there's something off about him at least."

Sirius sighed and looked back at Lupin who was leaning over his parchment again, his longish, tawny hair shielding his eyes. His cheeks looked a little flushed.

"Not off, exactly," Sirius said. "I'll admit there's something weird about him, but not really _off_." He hesitated, unsure of whether to divulge what he had seen that morning.

"What?" demanded James, who already knew Sirius far too well for his peace of mind.

"This morning he burnt his hand in the shower. I saw him putting burn lotion on it."

"So?"

"Well, it was a huge pot of lotion and it was nearly finished." Sirius glanced quickly at Lupin again, then back into James' hazel eyes. He lowered his voice. "He'd slid his sleeve back a bit to put the lotion on and I saw scars on his wrist."

"Scars?" James frowned, a flash of worry flittering across his face.

"Yeah. I didn't get a proper look, cos when he noticed me he jumped and the sleeve fell back, but there were scars. A round shiny one like a burn, and then some others like slashes."

There was silence for a moment as James and Peter digested this information.

"How d'you reckon he got them?" Peter asked nervously.

Sirius shrugged. But he was thinking about his mother and the day she hit him across the face with the back of her hand. He remembered her ring cutting into his cheek, and the utter shock and horror he'd felt as he hit the floor. He wondered if there were parents out there who didn't rely on house-elves to administer punishments. He wondered if there were parents out there who didn't stop at hidings and three-day stints in the kitchen cellar.

He looked up at James again and saw a guilty flush in the other boy's cheeks.

"Well, he's still weird," he said.

"We don't have to be friends with him," Sirius said, repeating what he had said the night before. "He is completely mental. But maybe it's for a good reason."

He watched as James shot Lupin another look. More assessing now than sneering. The tawny-haired boy had hunched so far into his corner of the common room that he almost seemed to be trying to melt into his desk.

"Fine," James said. "We won't be mean to him anymore. We'll be polite. But I'm not being friends with him."

Sirius couldn't explain afterwards why he felt so relieved at these words. After all, why should he care what happened to Lupin?

The sight of that scarred little wrist seemed burnt into the back of his head.


	9. First Lie, First Moon

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of Harry Potter's world and its wonderful characters. I own nothing but the plot I made up and a few OCs. **

_"Life without a friend is death without a witness."_

_(Spanish Proverb)_

**REMUS:**

Remus was physically shaking as he lay in bed that night with his curtains closed. He listened to the others coming in and getting ready for bed. They bickered and tousled and Black and Potter had an impromptu pillow fight, but they seemed to be keeping their voices as quiet as hyped-up eleven-year-old boys are able to. He wondered if this was because they thought he was asleep. Was this their attempt at 'being polite'?

Remus's mind drifted again to the conversation he had overheard between the boys earlier that evening. There may have been a lot of other noise in the common room, but his sensitive werewolf hearing had picked up every word.

He wasn't sure what he felt. It had started out as hurt and bitterness as the boys had discussed his inability to make friends. He'd wanted to run away or shut them up, while at the same time being desperate to hear more about what he was doing wrong when it came to getting people to like him. Frank had said he was a 'nice lad' but that he didn't want to be a best friend. Why was that? What could he have done to make Frank want to be his friend and not just someone who was fun to chat to in Charms?

Then Sirius had told them about his scars and he had gone from feeling humiliated, hurt and confused to utterly bowel-clenchingly terrified. He'd been paralysed in his seat as he felt their eyes rake over him.

Remus wished he knew what they thought about his scars. Did they have any suspicions as to how he got them? Did they think it was because he was a werewolf? No, not that. Scared as he was, he knew they had no reason to suspect that. There hadn't even been a full moon yet. At this thought, his heart seemed to slow a little and his shaking gradually subsided.

So what did they think? Did they suspect it was his father? They wouldn't be far off the mark. Many of the scars were his father's doing, not the wolf's. Or did they think he did it to himself? Was that what Sirius meant when he said he thought Remus was 'completely mental'? Was that why they were laying off him? Because they were afraid they would drive him all the way to the edge so he would finish it and die?

No matter how miserable Remus had been in his life, he had never contemplated killing himself. He didn't know if it was the wolf's natural instinct for survival, or whether it was something inside his human self. Was it the Inner Marauder that, through all his hurts and pains, remained in the back of his mind snickering at life's little absurdities and thinking up new plans for mischief?

The lights flickered out and the others whispered to one another for a while before settling down. His acute hearing picked up the sounds of their steady breaths clearly. He didn't feel tired at all. He shifted and rolled onto his stomach, wondering if that would be more comfortable.

_"…There were scars. A round shiny one like a burn, and then some others like slashes." _

He rolled onto his side and stared out into the darkness.

_"…You've gotta admit there's something off about him at least..."_

He kicked off his blankets, feeling hot, then pulled them back again in case one of the others looked in at him for some reason. If his pyjamas were tugged up in his sleep, who knew what else they would see?

_"We won't be mean to him anymore. We'll be polite. But I'm not being friends with him."_

It was only into the early hours of the morning that Remus finally managed to drift off into restless sleep.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Over the next week, Remus began to fall into a routine of sorts. Potter's gang kept to their word. They mostly ignored him, but if they did need to talk to him they were polite and distant. Sometimes, Remus's senses would kick in and he would stiffen, knowing that one of them was staring at him, and he would silently beg them to look away. Sharing a room with the boys, he began to recognise their scents as well, and he knew that, though Potter and Pettigrew did their fair share of staring, it was mainly Black. He felt those clear grey eyes burning into the back of his neck and wished fervently that mind-reading was part of the werewolf package.

Remus kept away from them as much as he could. In lessons he tried to sit next to Frank as often as he could, and Frank didn't seem to mind, though he never made overtures of closer friendship. He and Michael Douglas had become good mates and seemed to prefer going off on their own. Sometimes, Remus wondered if it was only to get back at Potter's gang for their interrogation that Frank allowed him to sit beside him in most lessons.

Potter, Black and Pettigrew still called him 'Loopy', but it wasn't said in the same sneering tones as before. It was almost like calling a red-head 'Ginger'. A nickname for an obvious characteristic. Remus tried not to mind. He knew he seemed odd, especially when he muttered allowed to the wolf as it stirred in him, but it was the only way he'd found to calm it.

In between lessons, Remus would retreat to the library to do his work. He found that he was happiest there, among the books, learning all the wonderful things that his father had told him he would never be available to an animal like him. He would sometimes see a blurry image of his mother in his mind's eye, sprawled out on the floor in the cottage's living room, completely engrossed in a potions book, her tawny eyebrows knitted together and her long hair pooled around her on the floor.

He didn't know where the image came from, or even if it were real, but he found that if he sat on the floor and read a book that intrigued him, he felt closer to his mother than he had in years. It was a wonderful feeling, this closeness, mixed in with defiance for his father.

The other students looked at him oddly when he sat on the floor. There were tables and chairs all round the library and they obviously couldn't understand why he didn't use them. Sometimes, the librarian, Madame Pince – a young woman with a face that screwed up as though she were sucking a lemon every time a student dared to enter her domain – would try to shoe him to a table, but after a few days, gave up and seemed accept his presence as long as he stayed clear of the aisles.

The full moon was approaching rapidly, and Remus felt sick with a mixture of worry and the effects of his curse. On the night of the full moon, he sat at the end of the Gryffindor table, his heightened senses seeming to pick us the burning presence of the silver platters even from a distance and his stomach rolling at the thought of food.

After a while, he stood up and retreated back to the Gryffindor Tower where he dug around in his chest to pull out his outdoor cloak and shrugged it on. He was just turning to head towards the infirmary when he saw Black standing in the doorway of the dorm, looking at him.

"Where are you going? It's almost curfew."

Remus looked down, twisting his hands. "I'm going to see my mother for a few days."

"You look ill."

"I'm worried." _Not a lie._

Black looked uncertain, frowning and chewing his lower lip as though he wanted to say something but didn't know how. Eventually he cleared his throat and said, "I er… hope she gets better."

"She won't."

"Oh."

The silence became unbearable and Remus slipped past Black and out of the door. He hurried downstairs and out of the portrait hole.

Madame Pomfrey gave him a worried look when he arrived at the hospital wing. "You don't look very well, dear."

"I always look like this before the transformation," Remus told her. He could see that she was anxious about taking care of him and felt a guilty twinge in his chest. "It's okay, you know. I usually take care of myself unless it's really bad and I can't reach."

"Of course you won't have to do that," she admonished gently. "I'll take care of you. I'll come and get you in the morning."

They set off out of the castle, heading towards the Whomping Willow and Madame Pomfrey picked up a long stick on the way.

"You just press this knot in the trunk here and the branches freeze for a few moments," she said, demonstrating.

Remus followed her down a very long, black tunnel, the bobbing light of her wand-tip the only source of illumination. Eventually, they came to a door which opened into a very scruffy, boarded-up house that creaked and groaned in the wind.

"The Shrieking Shack," Madame Pomfrey informed him. "It's been here for years and is said to be haunted. That means no one will come and investigate if they hear you…er… making a noise."

"Howling," Remus put in.

"Er…yes."

"My dad just put silencing charms on my room."

"He leaves you in your room? What if you broke out?" She looked rather shocked.

"My room is in the basement. The walls are thick and there are no windows. I wouldn't break out." For some reason Remus couldn't fathom, she didn't look reassured by the news. In fact, she looked more disturbed than ever.

The old wooden staircase led up to a dusty bedroom sparsely decorated with battered furniture and a moth-eaten bed. There were new covers on the bed, though, and Madame Pomfrey indicated that he could lie on it. Remus felt a creaking in his bones as the full moon came closer. He shifted uncomfortably.

"I think you should go now," he said, embarrassed.

"Oh yes, of course!" Looking flustered, Madame Pomfrey hurried out of the room and down the stairs.

_I wonder if it really is haunted in here, _Remus thought as he removed his clothes to prevent them from getting torn. Climbing painfully onto a rickety chair, he stowed them on top of the wardrobe. The house was shadowy and filled with bumps and creaks as the wind blew outside. _Well, even if it is, I guess nothing could be more scary than what I'm gonna be in a few minutes._

He crept over and climbed onto the bed, glad that the new blankets and pillows were in Gryffindor red. They made him feel braver. There was a tiny window near the top of the wall, and he watched through it as the moon began to rise.

Remus knew he should be used to the pain by now, but he could never keep from screaming in agony as his bones literally cracked apart and reformed, forcing his skeleton into a different shape. His skin seemed to boil and melt and reform, stretching over new limbs until he was sure it would snap with the pressure. His jaw burned and cracked as it lengthened and he tasted blood as sharp teeth cut through blackening gums.

He screamed all the while; screamed and screamed until the screams turned to howls, then whimpers. After this, the wolf took over, and the part of Remus that was repulsed and human retreated to the back of his mind, hidden as the monster raged within the confines of its new cage.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

He woke to find himself lying on a splintery wooden floor, his back against the wardrobe. He opened his eyes and tried to move. Every one of his limbs protested violently, and his arms felt warm and slippery against his sides, stinging with blood and sweat.

He pulled himself up into a half sitting position and looked down, his heart sinking. It had been a very bad night. His chest, arms and legs were gnawed and bloody. The wolf hadn't liked its new cage.

Looking around the room, Remus felt sick as as he observed the mess. The Gryffindor-red blanket was in tattered shreds on the floor. Every piece of furniture was bitten and scratched and the spindly chair he had stood on the night before was mere splinters on the floor. Everything was smeared in blood, and some of the walls were splattered with urine where the wolf, as unhappy as it was with its new surroundings, had marked its territory.

It was awful and embarrassing. He didn't want Madame Pomfrey to come up and see what he had done to the house they had given him. Struggling weakly to his knees, Remus tried to right the furniture a bit. He grabbed the shredded rags of the blanket and tried to wipe the worst of the blood away, but only succeeded in smearing it.

There was no way he could reach his clothes and he felt tears of frustration and humiliation fill his eyes and fall down his stinging cheeks as he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Dear Merlin!" Madame Pomfrey seemed to be stuck speachless when she opened the door to the room. Remus saw her eyes move over the blood stains and battered furniture until they landed on him, among the rags of his blanket, crying and naked.

"Sorry, sorry!" he sobbed, "I didn't mean to do it..."

"Oh, Remus." Suddenly she was kneeling beside him, her hands moving over to gently touch the edges of his wounds. "Of course not, love. No one cares about the house. I'm just worried about you. I've never seen anything this bad on such a little lad."

Then her wand was there, touching the scratches and gouges, and the blood stopped a bit and the wounds began healing.

"I would ask if it's always like this, but I can see from your scars that I wouldn't like the answer."

"Not always," Remus said, sniffing and feeling full of pain and wonder that she dared to touch him and didn't flinch away from the sight of his ugly body and dripping wounds. "The w-wolf didn't like the house. But he'll get used to it. Sometimes it's worse." He felt embarrassed and exposed as her wand moved lower to the bleeding bites on his abdomen. "I c-couldn't reach my c-clothes." He pointed to the pile on top of the cupboard.

Madame Pomfrey smiled at him. "Sensible boy, putting them up there. _Accio clothes._"

She caught the summoned clothes and gently helped him to stand as she wrapped his outdoor cloak around him to shield his body.

"That will do for now, I think. No one will be up and about at this time. It's too early."

Together, they staggered down the tunnel, Remus leaning most of his weight on the nurse. They stumbled as quickly as they could over the stretch of grass to the school and through to the Hospital Wing. Then, in a whirl of comforting words, warm water, potions and muttered spells, Remus found himself tucked up in a bed away from the main ward, feeling warmer and safer than he ever had before. He wondered, dimly through the fuzziness of the pain potions, if it would have been a little like this if his mother had been alive during his transformations.

One of the potions must have been a sleeping drought because Remus felt his eyelids dragged down heavily and he sunk willingly back into unconsciousness.


	10. A FigLike Appearance

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of Harry Potter's world and its wonderful characters. I own nothing but the plot I made up and a few OCs. **

**_"Captivate"_**

_ Dictionary definition: **verb - **to attract and hold the interest and attention of; charm. _

**SIRIUS:**

Sirius didn't see Lupin again for two days after the awkward conversation in the dorm. He, along with James and Peter, didn't really notice his absence much in the days that followed. They were overtaken by a blur of new subjects, a castle to explore, mischief to create and spells to learn.

On the second Monday of their new school term, Sirius had announced to his friends in a manner reminiscent of Nicholas Flammel's when he had finally solved the problem of creating the Philosopher's Stone, that DADA was his favourite subject. This was mainly because the teacher – a very young Auror who had been put out of commission for a year due to a leg injury – was the most awesome person in the school.

Professor Anders had pale brown hair surrounding one of those faces that never loses its boyishness, no matter how old the person is. He kept up a witty repartee with his students but, as James and Sirius discovered on a day they tried to sneak some itching powder into Snape's robes while he was occupied practicing the disarming spell, he could blow up at a moment's notice, causing them to feel almost sorry for any dark wizard that crossed his path.

Sirius also enjoyed DADA because he knew his parents disapproved of it.

The subject he liked least was Potions, which was taught by the enormous Professor Slughorn. Slughorn had a stomach so large that Sirius thought he should have had his own gravitational force and maybe a few moons. He was the Slytherin Head of House, but presented a surprisingly jovial manner towards most students, particularly those who had influential families or demonstrated a flair for Potions. Unfortunately, this immediately put Sirius and Snape into the same category for both reasons respectively.

It was in one such distressing Potions lesson that Sirius, in a desperate bid to earn the teacher's disapproval and so get himself expelled from any group that contained Severus Snape, had pretended to accidentally drop a Tottenblow Togarts' Hair-Changing Toffee on the floor by Snape's cauldron. Much to his, Peter's and James's delight, Snape had picked it up and eaten it, earning himself long greasy tangle of disturbingly fluorescent lime-green hair.

"Why did we get detention?" Peter complained as the three of them wandered to the great hall that evening, after a miserable two hours cleaning the trophy room by hand. "It's not like we forced him to eat it. And besides, it was in Slytherin colours."

"Exactly!" Sirius said, as they thumped down on the bench of the Gryffindor table and began piling their plates. "In fact, I thought the colour went rather well with his eyes."

"Slughorn didn't agree when you pointed that out to him," James said, his mouth full of chicken stew.

"I can't think why not. Anything's an improvement to Snivellus' hair. A bottle of shampoo would be a great start to ridding him of his general air of grossness."

"Still, it's not like we expected to get away with it," Peter said, having already inhaled half his dinner.

"I don't know how he figured out it was us." Sirius poked disconsolately at his food.

"I reckon it might've had something to do with you burping 'sucker!' then falling off your bench laughing when his hair turned green," James volunteered.

"I think there's a fig in my stew," Sirius said, unable to refute James's comment. He speared the offending object with his fork and waved it in James's direction. "I hate figs! Why would anyone put figs in stew?"

"It's not a fig, it's a mushroom," Peter said, already dishing himself up seconds.

"It's a fig. I can see it's a fig. D'you think I don't know what a fig looks like?"

"I wouldn't argue with Pete about anything to do with food, mate," James said, indicating the smaller boy's rather wide girth that threatened to be turning him into a mini Slughorn.

Sirius looked more closely at the shrivelled black thing on the end of his fork before taking a small bite.

"Oh. It is a mushroom."

Peter smirked, his mouth so full of dumpling he could not make a sound.

"Don't look at me like that. It was a suspicious and possibly of Slytherin origin. It _fooled_ me with its fig-like appearance!"

"Are you boys _ever _serious?" Lily Evans demanded, as Sirius' wild gesticulating caused the piece of mushroom-masquerading-as-a-fig to fly off his fork and onto her plate.

"Nope, only me," Sirius said proudly, "Sirius Black!"

Many Gryffindors around the table groaned at this declaration, and Lily flicked the piece of mushroom off her plate in disgust.

By the time dinner was finished, the boys were in very high spirits and headed back to the Common Room in what Professor McGonagall referred to as a disorderly manner.

"Let's play exploding snap," James suggested. "Has anyone got a set?"

"I do," Sirius said, leaping up to run to the dormitory. "I'll just go get it."

He burst into the room and skidded over to his trunk on his knees. It was only once he had fished out the pack of cards and slammed it shut that he noticed the other occupant of the room. Remus Lupin lay curled on his bed, a book in his hand as he eyed Sirius warily. He looked dreadful - face was drawn and white and rings under his eyes so dark that it looked like he'd been punched.

"You look dreadful, Loopy," Sirius told him.

"Blame my parents. Their genes." Lupin's voice and expression was calm, but Sirius didn't miss the strain in his eyes, or the way he curled up a little more as if attempting to protect himself.

"No, I mean you look ill."

"I've been to Madame Pomfrey. I'll be fine."

Sirius looked at him doubtfully, a picture of a thin, scarred little wrist rising to his mind. He felt something oddly like a flush of anger run through him and couldn't quite understand why. Before he considered what he was doing he leapt forward and grabbed Lupin's book from his surprised hands.

"Hey! Give it back!"

Lupin made an angry grab for the book, but Sirius stepped back at the last minute and the smaller boy tumbled out of bed and landed hard on his side. He let out an odd little whining whimper of pain, reminding Sirius of a kicked puppy. Sirius waited for him to get up and tackle him again, but instead Lupin just lay there for a long moment before rising to his knees with the help of his bed and crawling back onto it.

"All right," he said, his voice tinged with weariness, "you may keep it if it makes you happy."

Sirius found he couldn't answer. He was staring at the floor where a smudge of dark red stained the area where Lupin had fallen. The boy lay curled on the bed again, his back to Sirius, and now that Sirius was looking for it, he could see the darker stain of blood on Remus' black school robes.

"Who hurt you?"

"Get out. Keep the bloody book if you want and _get out_."

"Was it your – "

"Get out! _Get out! _GETOUTGETOUTGETOUT!" Lupin turned his head and Sirius was confronted with a pair of manic gold-amber eyes. They looked massive in his small face and not quite sane, like an animal locked too long in a tiny cage.

Sirius took a step back, suddenly irrationally afraid. It was something from deep inside him – a primal instinct that seemed to scream _run, run!_

But then Lupin turned his head away again and started muttering, "Stay away, stay back, stay away, pleaseplease not now…" And all Sirius could see was that too-thin back trembling and bleeding through his robes - a sight that seemed to be superimposed over the image of that little scarred wrist in his mind.

Hesitantly, he stepped forward and laid the book on the bed by Lupin's ankles. Even the boy's feet, he noticed, seemed to be curling in on themselves. He backed away and crept out of the door.

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Sirius didn't mention the incident to Peter and James, just as they didn't comment on the fact that Lupin was back at all. Sirius kept the secret of that incident locked away in his mind where he could replay it in calm moments – such as History of Magic (which was taught by the ghost, Professor Binns, who James reckoned had bored himself to death with his own lessons. Binns didn't even notice when, due to James having spent a happy half hour practising a nifty charm they had discovered in the library that tied people's shoelaces together, every one of his students fell flat on their noses as they leapt gratefully to their feet at the end of the lesson.).

Sirius didn't know what to do about what he had seen. He sort of thought he should tell someone, but that felt strangely like a betrayal of trust – even though he had never promised Lupin anything, and didn't like him anyway.

Sometimes he would find himself staring at the back of Lupin's head where he sat at the front of the class looking small and studious and vulnerable, and tried to picture a grown-up grabbing the boy and beating him so badly he bled through his robes and caused scars on his skin so he had to wear long jumpers even in the hottest weather. At these times, that funny burning anger twisted in his stomach again and he had to restrain himself from leaping up, shaking Lupin's thin shoulders and screaming at him. He didn't know what he would scream, though. Maybe, _"Why are you trying to hide it? I know what they're doing to you!"_ or, _"Tell someone, you stupid, crazy idiot! Tell somebody grown up so I don't have to think about it anymore!"_

Or maybe just_, "Why did you let me see? Why did you let me know?"_

He could not stop himself from watching as Lupin walked calmly around the school from class to class. He watched as Lupin helped little Alice Richards up after she hit her head when a stair disappeared under her right foot, picking up her books and offering to take her to the Hospital Wing. He hid behind a shelf in the library one day and stared as Lupin sat quietly cross-legged on the floor in the Charms section, reading a book with a look of serene tranquillity on his face that Sirius couldn't understand. It made him almost as angry as the thought of his scars did, though this time he wanted to scream _"Don't be calm! Don't be happy! You can't be when you're beaten and little and have no friends. Why aren't you sad? Why aren't you fighting?"_

James and Peter, caught up in their eleven-year-old, self-centred little worlds, didn't seem to notice Sirius' new habit of 'Lupin Watching'. Sometimes Sirius forgot it as well, joining in new Slytherin pranks and Snape-baiting with the abandon of a true Gryffindor, until the flash of a tawny-coloured head caught his attention again.

Sirius didn't know how many weeks had passed before he looked up from his game of chess with Peter to spot Lupin heading towards the portrait hole one evening dressed in his outdoor cloak.

"Where are you going, Loopy!" he yelled, causing the boy to jump violently and swing around to look at him. It was the first time either of them had exchanged a word since that night in the dorm.

"Home. To see my mother." Lupin turned and hurried out the portrait hole before Sirius could question him any further.

"Why do you care?" Peter asked.

"I don't." Sirius distracted his chubby friend from further questions by calmly moving his queen so that Peter was checkmated.


	11. The Irony of Double Hurts

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of Harry Potter's world and its wonderful characters. I own nothing but the plot I made up and a few OCs. **

_Must there be a secret me I'm forced to hide?_

_I won't pretend that I'm someone else for all time._

_When will my reflection show who I am inside?_

**_(Christina Aguilera - Reflection (From Disney's Mulan))_**

**REMUS:**

_I don't know who he thinks he's kidding, _Remus thought. He felt the now-familiar stare burning into his back as he tried to keep his attention on Professor Anders's lecture on lesser duelling jinxes. He shifted in his chair, fighting with his natural instinct to turn and face what the wolf within him considered a predatory gaze. He should be used to it by now: four months and still Black hadn't given up.

Remus could only be thankful that Black hadn't tried to talk to him again. Everytime he returned from the infirmary following his transformations, Remus could feel those grey eyes rake over him, searching for signs of what Remus had so carelessly revealed to him that first moon which now seemed so long ago. It took every ounce of acting ability and full utilisation of his high pain-threshold to walk calmly through the halls, common room and classes in the few days following the full moon. He knew that if he showed even the slightest sign of weakness, Black's hesitant façade would break and he might confront Remus again.

Remus knew he was a good actor. He knew he could fool almost anyone with the stories he used to protect himself from detection. But he also knew there was only so much that acting could hide. Black believed there was someone at home who was hurting him, and that was just a little too close to true for comfort. If Black, with his piercing grey eyes and blunt searching questions could wheedle that shameful truth out of Remus, who knew what else he might end up uncovering? In spite of his reckless Gryffindor nature, a little of Black's Slytherin heritage was clearly apparent in his sharp eyes, and clever, careful assessing.

Remus shuddered to think what Potter, Black and Pettigrew might do if they found out they were sharing a room with a werewolf. At the very least they might use the information to blackmail Remus into doing something terrible, but in the worse case…

They could tell everyone. Remus would be expelled. Dumbledore's job would be in jeopardy. Werewolves weren't allowed to be educated, and Remus had read enough books in the school library to know just how bad the Wizarding World's prejudice was against his kind. If the Ministry found out, he was in real trouble. His age might count a little in his favour, but they were more than likely to lock him up in one of those werewolf reservations – particularly if his fellow students told them how unbalanced they thought he was. Or they might even choose to put him down. That's what happened to most Dark Creatures that put a human life in danger.

Remus felt himself beginning to tremble and grow clammy with fear. It was only a day after he'd been released from Madame Pomfrey's care, and his defences were low as he fought with the pain of his wounds. The thunderstorm on the night of the full moon had agitated the wolf, and his injuries were as bad as they had been on that first full moon of the year. The wolf had gnawed an impressive gash out of his leg, just above the knee. It had taken all Remus' willpower to walk to class rather than limp.

Suddenly aware of a shadow falling over him, Remus looked up.

"Mr. Lupin, are you with us?" Professor Anders asked, standing over him.

"I…er…"

"I have asked you the same question three times now."

Remus wracked his brain, hoping for some vague idea as to what the question could have been.

After a moment, the young Auror frowned and bent over to study Remus's face more closely. Remus saw his eyes flicker towards the window where the still-stormy sky was visible outside. He _saw_the realisation register on the man's face and, not for the first time, regretted the fact that all the professors had to be told about his condition.

"You don't look very well, Mr. Lupin," Professor Anders said, his boyish face going from stern to concerned. "Perhaps you should go and see Madame Pomfrey?"

Remus wanted nothing more than an excuse to escape that classroom and the grey eyes that watched and watched and searched for chinks in his armour. but he also knew he couldn't leave. Going now would be a sign of weakness, and he was sure Black would draw conclusions from it. He also thought of his mother and the vow he had made to do his best at school so he could come out with grades that would have made her proud. It was one of the reasons he had convinced Madame Pomfrey to release him so early.

"No, I'm fine, sir. I was just daydreaming. Could you repeat the question, please?"

Anders looked like he wanted to protest, but clearly thought the better of it. "I asked you if you would attempt to demonstrate the jellylegs jinx on Mr. Longbottom here." He gestured to where Frank was standing by the blackboard looking resigned to his role as test subject.

"Uh, yes. Yes. One moment."

Remus searched the archives of his mind for a memory of the spell. He'd been lost in his own world longer than he realised as he couldn't even remember the demonstration. Luckily he had found his DADA book fascinating, and because his father had kept him in his room for most of summer, he'd had plenty of time to study it.

He stood up, trying not to wince as the movement hurt his damaged leg. "Sorry Frank."

"S'alright, mate." He shrugged and grinned at Remus. "Gather that magic."

Remus took a deep breath and cast the jinx. He only half expected it to work as he so exhausted the edges of his vision kept going fuzzy round the edges if he moved to quickly. To his amazement, however, Frank started wobbling round the front of the classroom as though his legs were made of rubber.

"Excellent, Mr. Lupin!" Professor Anders was grinning at him with an expression close to amazement on his face. "I hope you all took note of his very precise wand-movement. It's not so much about the strength behind the spell on lesser jinxes like these, but the precision. _Finite Incantatem_!" Frank stopped wobbling. "You may both sit down."

Remus sat down in relief, determined to pay attention for the rest of the lesson. Time seemed to drag and Remus felt like crying with relief when Anders finally asked them to pack up. As the class was about to leave for lunch, however, Remus felt a hand on his arm, preventing him from moving to the door. He tried to hide his wince as the hand – gentle though it was – pressed against a ragged wound on his arm.

"A moment please, Mr Lupin."

Remus glanced longingly towards the door and noticed Black standing just outside with Potter, both watching curiously. On balance he felt he could deal with Ander's questions more easily than theirs. He nodded to the professor.

"Off you go gentlemen!" Professor Anders said to Black and Potter, shutting the door and moving his wrist with a flick to cast a silencing charm

"You have some nosy friends there," he commented to Remus as he moved to sit behind his desk. "Have a seat."

Remus sat nervously at one of the student desks near the front of the classroom. "They're not my friends."

"No?" Anders said. He looked at Remus, his expression calm. "Who are your friends then?"

Remus looked down at the table. "Uh...n-no friends."

"Why not? Are you afraid they will find out your secret?"

Remus didn't know what to say. He found he couldn't meet the man's eyes. He stared at the scratched tabletop and shook his head.

"Well then?"

"I –well, I d-don't want them to find out, of course," Remus said, flushing and flicking a glance to the sky outside. "But, that's not why I have no friends."

"Then why don't you?"

"I don't know!" Remus suddenly realised that maybe here, finally, was someone who could tell him what he was doing wrong. "I try to be nice to people, but they all just think I'm crazy and they c-call me Loopy. Or even if they don't hate me they only feel s-s-sorry for me because I don't have any friends, but because I don't have any friends no one wants to be my friend 'cause then they won't have any other friends as well. Please - what am I doing wrong?"

"Remus, you have to realise that because of your curse and the trials you've been through in your life, you regard the world in a very different way to most children of your age. You see the world a little like an adult might. You don't have illusions about the fairness of life or the darker side of magic. An ordinary eleven-year-old has never had anything to worry about except what House he will be in, or what his classmates think of him. They are quick to judge and outcast anyone who seems a little different."

"But I don't know _how _to be like them!" Remus slammed his fists down on the table in front of him in frustration. The desk-lid buckled and splintered and his left fist went all the way through. "S-sorry," he whispered, mortified. Werewolf strength: another thing that set him apart. _Animal. Beast._

"It's fine, Remus, it's fine," Professor Anders said. He didn't look horrified or frightened, only sad. "And you shouldn't pretend to be like them." He stood up and approached Remus, giving a quick wave of his wand. "_Reparo._" The desk repaired itself. "Black spends a lot of time looking at you," Anders continued. "That's why I thought you were friends."

Remus shook his head. "I share a dorm with him. One day he saw some of my …uh …s-scars and things. I think he thinks someone at home is hurting m-me."

"Why does he think that?" Professor Anders asked, frowning a little.

"I tell them that I am going home to visit my sick m-mother on full moon nights. It's easy to see why he guessed that, I suppose."

There was silence in the room and Remus could see Anders trying to think of something to help him while knowing that, without revealing his Lycanthropy, there was not much he could do.

"I try to hide my wounds from them," Remus said. "That's why I couldn't leave class today."

"So you're not well? And yet you still managed to cast an exemplary jelly-legs curse. Quite a feat, Mr. Lupin."

Remus smiled, ducking his head. "Thank you."

"Your parents will be proud."

"My mother is dead."

"I'm sorry. You father, then."

Remus felt a tremor of that same hysterical laughter that had overtaken him at the station with Potter's mother and stood quickly before it could escape. "I think I'll go to the hospital wing, now," he murmured and hurried to the door as fast as his injured leg would allow him.

"Mr. Lupin!" the sharp tone made him hesitate and look over his shoulder. "No one _is _hurting you at home, are they?"

Remus felt his heart hammer in fear. His father would _kill _him if anyone found out. "The wolf, sir. It hurts me wherever I am." He was amazed at how steady his voice was. He turned and hurried from the room before Anders could say any more. He was unable to keep the laugh from bubbling from his mouth as the irony of the situation hit him. In Black's case, he was using his parental beatings as an excuse to hide his lycanthropy and in Anders, he was using his lycanthropy to hide his father's beatings.

He hurried towards the Gryffindor tower, no longer caring that he was limping, unwilling to undergo the fussing that he knew he would receive if he returned to the Hospital Wing. He didn't notice the two dark-haired boys who had lingered in the corridor, staring after him in bemusement.


	12. Remus Watching

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of Harry Potter's world and its wonderful characters. I own nothing but the plot I made up and a few OCs. **

_Gertie the snow troll,_

_Has a very orange nose_

_And a smell so bad_

_That it drives men mad,_

_And kills cats where'er she goes._

_(The first verse to a popular Wizarding Christmas Carol – by Moonsign)_

**SIRIUS:**

"What do you think they're talking about in there?" James asked, as they he pressed his ear to the door. "I can't hear anything. I reckon Anders must've cast a silencing charm."

Sirius scowled at the door and gave the stone wall beside it a half-hearted kick. He wondered if it had been wise to inform James of his discoveries and suspicions. Not that he'd really had a choice. The other boy had finally noticed his distraction with Lupin and there just wasn't a lie out there convincing enough to satisfy someone as bright as James.

"Maybe Professor Anders noticed he wasn't well, and decided to question him. Maybe he knows that Lupin's Mum or Dad is beating him up."

James leant against the wall and eyes narrowed at the door. "I dunno, mate," he said. "I was watching him really closely this morning on the way to class and I didn't see him limping at all."

"I'm _not _wrong!" Sirius snapped. James flinched and Sirius quirked his lips in an apologetic grimace. "I saw the blood and the scars. What else could it be? Besides, I was watching him even more closely than you, and I saw that the reason he wasn't limping or wincing was because he was walking really, really carefully. He put every foot down _just so_. He made his face _totally blank_ – you know how he does_._"

"Well, I didn't see anything."

Sirius sighed and decided not to argue the point anymore. Every time he did it felt like a betrayal of trust and he hated the feeling. "Let's just hang around 'til he comes out," he suggested. James sighed but nodded, dropping his book-bag on the floor and slumping further against the wall.

It wasn't that long before the door slammed open, and Lupin burst out. He very deliberately clicked the door shut behind himself, then released a violent stream of laughter that appeared to have been building up in his chest. It was a strange kind of broken, hiccoughing laughter that - had the two boys not been able to see his face – would have sounded more like crying. Lupin didn't even glance their way as he swung round and headed in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower. He was limping badly and clutching his side as though his laughter oained him somewhere inside.

"Bloody hell," James murmured, staring after him. "He laughed just like that when my Mum asked him where his parents were on the station."

"Yeah," Sirius said. He did not add, "I told you so," but the words hung clearly in the air between them.

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"He's staying for the Christmas Holidays," Sirius said, bouncing into the common room and flinging himself onto the sofa beside James and Peter.

"Who?" Peter asked.

"Lupin, of course," James said, rolling his eyes and grabbing his inkpot as Sirius' leap onto the sofa caused to wobble dangerously. "Who else is he obsessed with?"

"I'm not_ obsessed_ with him," Sirius protested. "I just think it's a good thing he's staying here rather than going home." He glared meaningfully at James who sighed and looked away, tapping the end of his quill against his teeth while he checked through his half-completed Herbology essay.

"Who cares what Loopy does?" said Peter, bewildered. "And even if you did, wouldn't it be better for him to go home? It's not like he's got friends here."

"Who knows? What's bubotuber pus used for?"

"Why are you asking me?" Peter pulled a face. "You know I never know anything."

"Sirius?"

"Dunno," Sirius said, staring into the fire. "Something to do with acne. Maybe it causes it. Or heals it. Or gives it to tortoises. I don't care. Let's plan a good prank on Snivellus. Reg wrote that Mum heard that he and Malfoy have become friends even though Malfoy's three years older than us. Bloody suck-up. He only does that 'cause he wants to be 'in' with the Slytherin slime-prince."

He saw James and Peter perk up at the idea and felt his mood lightening. "And you'll never guess what else," he added.

"What?" James asked, his eyes gleaming.

"While I was looking at the 'Staying for Christmas List' I overheard some sixth years talking about how to get into the kitchens. Apparently there's this picture of a bowl of fruit and you have to tickle the pear to get in."

"Utterly brilliant, mate," Peter said, with an expression like a niffler who had been given the keys to Gringotts.

"Now about that prank…"

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Sirius managed to avoid thinking about Lupin and his problems for the whole two weeks leading up to Christmas. Lupin aided him in his bid to forget by avoiding their little group as much as possible as soon as the holidays started. He tended to disappear into the library as soon as he woke up for the day, or otherwise headed outside, in spite of the bone-chilling cold of Scottish winters.

Christmas at Hogwarts was like nothing any of the boys had ever experienced before. The gamekeeper, Hagrid, dragged in four massive twenty foot fir trees, still glistening with snow that he left in a melting trail from the main doors to the Great Hall. James, Sirius and Peter had thoroughly enjoyed watching the caretaker, Filch, having an apoplexy trying to decide whether to confront the huge man about the mess of slush, mud and pine-needles or to avoid an early, and possibly rather violent death and just clean up after him.

Once the trees were in the Great Hall, the few remaining students watched in delight and awe as they were decorated by the professors. Flitwick floated giant, glittering baubles and tinsel to bedeck the branches so that each of the four trees was adorned in the house colours. McGonagall raised her wand and glittering flurries of never-melting snow and great, glistening icicles covered the trees and the great arching buttresses of the Great Hall.

Professor Anders charmed the suits of armour to sing badly off-key Christmas carols with accompanying dances until a third year Hufflepuff was found unconscious in the transfiguration corridor, having been knocked out by a steel elbow during a particularly enthusiastic rendition of _Gertrude the Snow-troll_. After that, the suits of armour were only allowed to jig up and down to their ear-splitting solos.

Inspired by the Christmas spirit, Sirius, James and Peter managed to charm a large piece of mistletoe to follow Snape around making loud, sloppy kissing noises until someone came within two metres of the Slytherin, at which point, the noises turned to violent retching. They were consequently assigned detention with Filch who delighted in directing them to clean the corridors of Hagrid's trail of mud and melting snow. By hand.

Some other mysterious person charmed the floors of the Transfiguration, Charms and Main corridors into giant sheets of ice. Not only this, but the ice seemed to have a different effect on each of the school's different Houses. The Hufflepuffs were forced to do nauseatingly high-speed pirouettes every time they set foot on the ice. The Gryffindors, for some reason, could only skate sideways in a rather back-straining imitation of an Ancient Egyptian drawing. They could also only go in straight lines leading to rather a lot of collisions with walls, doors and other students. The Ravenclaws were doomed to skate on one leg, the other foot stiffly out behind them, and their upper bodies facing the floor so they were unable to see. This led to more collisions – usually more painful than the Gryffindors' as they were leading with their heads. The Slytherins did not seem to be able to skate in any manner at all. As soon as they set foot on the ice, they suffered drastic and rather spectacular falls, always resulting in them sitting hard and painfully on the ice.

Since the affected corridors were the only means of reaching the Great Hall, the students had to fight their way across the ice if they didn't want to starve. The Slytherins, much to the delight of the other houses, were forced to bum-shuffle their way to the Great Hall for a whole day before Flitwick broke the charms on the Houses. He left the ice where it was, however, saying that it was a spectacular display of intricate spell-work.

Needless to say, Sirius, Peter and James were once again blamed for this prank, despite their protests that they knew nothing about it. Truth be told, they would have been delighted to claim the prank as their own, and were desperate to find out who their fellow prankster was and to shake him firmly by the hand.

If they had looked up once during the eventful morning, they would have glimpsed a tiny figure perched on top of the column of one of the elegant flying buttresses in the Main corridor. The figure had wild, tawny hair, amber eyes and flushed cheeks. He was leaning on a school broom and laughing so hard that he had to stuff his fist in his mouth to keep from giving himself away. No one in the school would have recognised the expression of carefree joy and mischief on the face of Remus Lupin as he clutched _The Revised Book of Advanced Charms_ to his chest and allowed his Inner Marauder free reign over the school.

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Sirius, for the first time all year woke up, not only on his own, but also very early on Christmas morning. He sat up and his eyes immediately fell to the massive pile of presents at the foot of his bed. He was never more thankful of pure-blood and Slytherin politics than on Christmas morning. No member of the very extended and convoluted Black family could afford to begrudge the heir (disgraced thought he was) a Christmas present.

He glanced over to James' bed. The boy had only made a half-hearted attempt at closing his curtains when they had staggered in the night before after a wild pre-Christmas party in the common room. Sirius could see that his friend had just as many presents as he did and he grinned. He leaned over the edge of his bed, picked up a shoe and tossed it at James' head. The other boy woke with a jerk.

"Siiiiirius!" he whined, his voice fuzzy with sleep. "You're a _wizard_! Can't you think of a more elegant way to wake me up without getting out of your bed?"

"Presents, Jamesie!"

James sat up at once, too excited even to reprimand Sirius over the mangling of his name. He immediately dived towards the pile.

Sirius smiled and looked away, glancing towards Lupin's bed opposite. Like James, the boy had forgotten to close his curtains properly, and it was clear from where Sirius was sitting that there were only two presents sitting on Lupin's faded duvet cover. One was quite large and wrapped in bright paper with a fluttering snitch pattern. The other was small and long and wrapped in brown paper. Lupin was curled right up near the top of his bed in a little ball, his breathing steady, still fast asleep.

"James!" Sirius hissed as quietly as he could, drawing his friend's attention away from his manic present-unwrapping. He pointed towards Lupin's bed and James' hands stilled as he caught sight of the two packages. He sent Sirius a rather pained look. Then glanced at his own covered bed with something like embarrassment.

"Well, what can _we_ do?" he whispered back.

Sirius glanced down at his own pile of presents and spotted the very definite shape of a box of chocolate frogs. The label on it, written in ugly, black, spidery handwriting informed him that it was from his Great-Aunt Berryl.

He reached out and carefully peeled the label off without tearing the paper and slipped out of bed.

"What're you doing?" James asked, shocked.

"He won't know it's from me. There's no label."

James hesitated, then rooted round in his presents until he found a familiar shaped box wrapped in violet and orange stripy paper.

"Fizzing Wizbees. From my cousin, Doris. I never liked her anyway." Blushing a little, he pulled off the label and handed the box to Sirius. Sirius crept towards Lupin's bed and carefully laid the presents on it, without disturbing its still sleeping occupant. He glanced at the two presents already there.

"Who're the other's from?" James asked as he tiptoed back.

"Dunno who the brown one is from, but the bigger one's from Frank. Looks like Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans."

"Thank Merlin for Frank and his massive heart," James murmured so softly that Sirius was almost sure he wasn't meant to hear it.

"Shall we wake Pete?" Sirius said, grinning and talking in his normal voice again.

James' face broke into a wicked answering grin. They looked at each other for a moment, before suddenly breaking out into loud cackling howls, yanking aside Peter's curtains and leaping onto his bed to jump up and down. Peter woke with a scream as both he and his presents were bounced out of his bed.

"You gits!" he wailed, trying to disentangle himself from his bedclothes and attempting to crawl back onto his still bouncing bed. James and Sirius just sniggered at him and bounced harder until Sirius hit his head painfully on the curtain rail and collapsed with a grunt of pain.

"Serves you bloody right!" Peter said, shoving him off and gathering up his scattered presents. "You'd better hope none of these were breakable."

Sirius noticed Lupin's curtains opening out of the corner of his eye and a sleep-ruffled tawny head peered out to watch the comotion.

"Prezzies!" James yelled, taking a flying leap off Peter's bed and back onto his own opposite. He dived into his present opening with renewed vigour. Sirius leapt up to join him and for a while, there was no conversation in the dormitory other than the odd exclamation of delight or surprise.

Sirius glanced up to see Lupin staring open-mouthed at the three boxes of sweets in front of him. The brown paper package still lay untouched.

"What you got there, Loopy?" Sirius asked, grinning.

"Who did these come from?" the boy asked, looking up at Sirius with a furrowed brow.

Sirius shrugged, glad of his own acting skills. "Dunno. Your family?"

"No, that one's from my father," Lupin said, pointing a finger at the brown package. As he did so, the sleeve of his too-long pyjama top slipped back and revealed his thin, scarred wrist. He slipped it back quickly, but Sirius felt that odd twisting just below his diaphragm at the brief glimpse.

"What about your mother?" Sirius asked, and was surprised to find that his voice could sound so gentle.

"She is not in any … condition to send me presents right now." Lupin looked away and touched a wondering hand to the box of chocolate frogs by his knee.

"I'm sorry," Sirius said.

Lupin shrugged and there was a long awkward pause in which Sirius realised that James and Peter were listening in on their conversation.

"Aren't you gonna open it?" Peter asked eventually, pointing to brown paper package.

Remus sighed and picked it up, feeling it with his fingers. He opened one end really carefully and tipped the present out onto his bed. It was a silver pudding spoon. For a second, Sirius was sure he saw an expression of fear and revulsion flare on Lupin's pale face, but then it was calm again. He stared down at the spoon dispassionately.

"Your father sent you a _spoon _for Christmas?" Peter asked.

"Yeah," Remus said, gathering his sweets into his arms and retreating to the top of his bed.

James cleared his throat. "If it makes you feel any better it looks quite expensive," he said. "Solid silver."

Remus hummed a little in the back of his throat though Sirius wasn't sure if it was in agreement. He slid out of bed and set up his chocolate frogs, fizzing wizbees and every flavour beans carefully on his bedside table, as though showing off priceless ornaments to their best effect.

When he noticed the other three boys were still watching him he flushed. "M'gonna shower," he muttered, before grabbing his towel and heading into the bathroom.

"Well," James said after a while, as the sound of a running shower rose from the other room. "That was odd."

"It really was," Sirius agreed, looking towards the spoon that lay innocently on the end of Lupin's bed.

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"Who cares what everyone thinks?" Sirius demanded, as they wandered together along the potions corridor one lunchtime in early February. Peter was still with Slughorn, having received a detention for blowing up his cauldron for the third time and consequently causing all those splattered to grow long, braided hair out of their nostrils.

James didn't answer his question, obviously bored with the argument they'd been having since Christmas.

"You didn't care at the beginning of the year when you stood on the bench and cheered for me," Sirius persisted.

"That was different. I knew you were cool and I knew you weren't crazy. Well, not as much as Loopy."

"It's not his fault, James. Imagine if your Dad beat you so much you were all bleeding and scarred. You'd also be a bit mental. Can't we give him a chance? Like… probation?"

"No. Definitely not."

"_Why?_ You won't even give him chance?"

"That's not what I meant. It's just...if we make friends with him, it can't be on probation. Even I can see how cruel that would be – giving him that chance and then taking it away. We would have to be properly friends with him." James sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair.

"So we can, then?" Sirius asked hopefully.

"Why d'you want this so much?"

"James." Sirius stopped suddenly, and turned to look at him, uncharacteristically serious. "My mother hit me once. Proper hard - right across the face. Her ring cut my cheek and made it bleed. It was...it was really bad. Not just 'cause it hurt, but also 'cause it was _my mum _who should be, you know, not like... I mean, it would be different if she'd given me a smack on the behind or something – I would probably deserve that - but a proper wallop right across the face so I bled…"

"Sirius..."

Sirius shook his head violently. "Imagine your mum or dad doing that all the time and much, much worse stuff that a whack across the face. His scars, mate. You didn't see them."

They stood in silence for a bit, then James said, "All right. All right, you win. We'll make friends with him."

Sirius felt the thing that had been knotted and twisted painfully just below his diaphragm for so many months relax and a smile of relief slipped onto his face. He'd known James would come around eventually.

"What are those lot up to?" James asked suddenly, pointing to the end of the corridor where four Slytherins – Snape, Malfoy, Nott and Lestrange were eyeing-up something down one of the other corridors. Snape looked very small compared to the hulking fourth years.

"Shall we follow them?" Sirius asked.

"Under here." James had pulled his invisibility cloak out of his bag (stored there for impromptu mischief making) and the two of them slid under it. They crept to the end of the corridor, just as the Slytherins disappeared from sight. They turned the corner and stopped in shock. Malfoy held a little, struggling Lupin up against the wall by his shabby robe.

"…Loony little lion wondering down here all on his own?" Malfoy was sneering, his face pressed close to Lupin's.

"Oh no you don't," Nott said, grabbing Lupin's wand from his hand and throwing it over his shoulder so it hit the wall a little way down the corridor towards Sirius and James.

"What do we do?" Sirius hissed, his mouth close to James' ear, "We can't take on four Slytherins on our own!"

"Get a Professor?" James suggested, his eyes flicking over the deserted corridor.

"I've heard about you little lion," Malfoy was still saying, seeming to find Lupin's struggles amusing. "Even the other lions don't want you in their big-headed pride. You're an outcast. Crazy. Alone. No one would miss you if I killed you right now would they?" He words jarred sickeningly with his honeyed tone.

Sirius desperately wanted to run and get help, but he didn't want to leave Lupin alone with the snakes either.

"I bet even your dirty, mudblood parents wouldn't miss you."

James and Sirius could only just make out Lupin's face from where they stood, but it was enough for them to see the flare of something wild and primal in the tiny boy's eyes. Without conscious thought they both took a step back, and even the Slytherins stiffened.

"Don't you talk to me like that!" Lupin spat, his voice hoarse from the grip Malfoy had on his throat, but seeming to throb with something deeper.

"Or what? You'll roar at us, little lion?" Malfoy asked, though the faintest uncertainty escaped in his tone. Sirius couldn't imagine what it must be like to stare into those blazing eyes from that close. Malfoy wrenched Lupin's robes even harder and there was the sound of tearing fabric.

Sirius was barely aware of the blur of movement, but suddenly the scene was different. Malfoy was doubled over in pain, his hands over his groin, gasping. His eyes were a little vacant and there was already a livid bruise growing on his forehead. Nott was knelt on the floor, clutching his nose while blood streamed out of it, and Lestrange seemed to be out cold. Snape, apparently unharmed, was staring down at Lupin in frozen terror as the small boy stood against the wall, breathing hard.

Lupin's face was twisted into a snarl and his eyes almost seemed to be glowing yellow. He took a few deep breaths before stalking over to grab his wand. Then he approached the Slytherins again and held his wand to the gasping Malfoy's throat. His back was now to Sirius so he couldn't see his expression.

"If you see me coming you'd better step aside," Lupin hissed directly into the boy's face, every line on his body screaming attack-mode. "A lot of men didn't," he leaned even closer, "A lot of men died." (1)

He stepped back, picking up his book-bag where it had been thrown on the floor and looked ready to leave.

"Freak!" Nott said suddenly, looking up and pointing at Lupin's chest, ignoring the blood that smeared his face. It took Sirius a moment to realise Lupin's robes must have been torn all the way open.

Malfoy looked up and suddenly he was pointing too, laughing cruelly and a little hysterically. "Ah! Freak, _freak_! I know what you are! You really _are _a little freak! You wait! You wait 'til I tell everyone you – "

He didn't get a chance to finish. Lupin had been frozen by the words, but now he suddenly sent one terrified amber glance over his shoulder, before he pointed his wand at Malfoy and shrieked "_Obliviate!_"

Malfoy's eyes grew large and blank. Before the others had time to react, there were two more cries of _"Obliviate! Obliviate!" _and the other two fourth years relaxed, their eyes growing vacant as well. Lupin turned a sad face towards Snape who was still frozen with shock nearby. "_Obliviate._"

The Slytherins blinked at him owlishly and Lupin said in a trembling voice, "This never happened. Not any of it." Then he turned and ran away down the corridor.

Sirius felt James tugging on his arms and they both turned and hurried in the opposite direction.

"My God! Oh Merlin!" James leant over gasping as soon as they burst out the door that led out to the Herbology greenhouses. Sirius pulled the cloak off their heads with shaking hands.

"What the bloody hell just h-happened?" he stammered.

"Lupin really is crazy. And maybe evil," James said, hazel eyes wide and frightened. "Eleven-year-olds shouldn't be able to cast _Obliviate_. It's a difficult curse and completely illegal. And he did it _four _times."

"What did he do to them?" Sirius asked, his knees giving out so he collapsed to the ground. "Before the _Obliviate_, I mean?"

"Dark magic," James said tremulously. "_Wandless _dark magic. I didn't even know that was possible."

They sat in silence for a moment, both still too shaken to think straight.

"You reckon we should go to a teacher?"

"No," Sirius said. "They were asking for it. Attacking him like that. He's never done anything like that to us. Let's just avoid him. Not get him angry. Or maybe we already have. Do you think he's _Obliviated_ us?"

James shivered, but shook his head. "No. He was terrified. Did you see his face? I think that must've been the first time."

"He just went crazy. Did you see his eyes?"

It was a long time before the two of them felt calm enough to head back to the Gryffindor Tower. Lupin came back much later that night and crept into bed. Sirius felt his heart thudding in fear until he heard an odd choking snuffling coming from the smaller boy's bed. It sounded like muffled sobs. Perhaps Lupin was possessed. Maybe he felt guilty. But Sirius couldn't bring himself to forget those yellow, feral eyes and the look of abject terror in Malfoy's aristocratic face.

And that's how it was for the rest of the term. James, Sirius and Peter avoided Lupin even more purposefully than they had before and Lupin seemed so quiet and withdrawn that it wasn't even hard. Sirius no longer stared at him, afraid of what the boy would do if he caught him and got angry.

He, James and Peter immersed themselves in pulling pranks and getting out of detentions. Summer rolled around and with it, the end of the year. The students piled onto the Hogwarts Express ready to head back to Platform nine and three-quarters.

As Sirius climbed off the train at the other end and headed towards his sour-faced mother dragging his trunk behind him, he caught sight of Lupin looking tiny, ill and skinny, standing next to a stocky, dark-haired, brutish looking man.

The man grabbed Lupin's arm which was still covered with a long sleeve in spite of the heat. He dragged the sleeve back and Sirius caught sight of more of the scarred little arm than he had ever seen before. His traitorous heart shuddered in sympathy. The man glanced around to make sure no one was obviously watching, then dug in his pocket and pulled out something that he held in his palm and pressed to Lupin's bare skin. The little boy went deathly pale and he caught his lower lip in his mouth. Sirius actually saw a dribble of blood head down his chin as his teeth sank in.

The man leant forward and murmured something to Lupin, who nodded jerkily. His arm was released and he stood for a moment visibly trembling. Then he quietly rolled down his sleeve and picked up the end of his trunk to follow the man off the platform.

**(1) Okay, yes, I admit, Remus and I shamelessly pinched this line from the old song 'Sixteen tonnes'. Remus would probably have heard it from his mother and used it to his advantage in this situation.**


	13. SUMMER HOLIDAYS FIRST YEAR

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of Harry Potter's world and its wonderful characters. I own nothing but the plot I made up and a few OCs. **

**SUMMER HOLIDAYS – End of First Year:**

_Remus Lupin's Summer Journal_

_July 14_

I've never kept a journal before. I found this one in the cupboard in the spare room when Dad locked me in there a few hours ago. The cupboard is mostly empty except for a really ugly old fur coat, a mop with a broken handle and one shelf really high up where all sorts of weird and useless stuff is kept – a wooden charm for warding off apricots (why? When have apricots ever attacked anyone?), a teapot that Transfigures tea to pumpkin juice as it comes through the spout (again, why? Why not just buy pumpkin juice?), a trick wand (I unluckily discovered that it stuffs itself up the nose of anyone who tries to cast a spell with it) and a few other stupid things that either my mum or my dad never got around to throwing away.

I wish I knew who it was who put that stuff up there. It looks like it's been there a long time, so it could have been Mum. I found this journal up there. It's not magical or pretty or anything. Actually, it's more like a Muggle notebook than a journal. That makes me think it must have been my mum's, since she was Muggle-born and my dad is a pureblood. That's why I'm writing in it. It makes me feel close to her like when I sit on the floor in the library at school.

Maybe she cast a spell on it so that wherever she is, even if she's dead, she can read what is written in here. Can you read this, Mum? If you can I don't think you would be very impressed with who I've grown up to be. You told me not to let the wolf change me, but it has. I'm stupid and weak, and it has.

The other day some boys attacked me at school and I used my werewolf strength to hurt them quite badly. They had torn my clothes open and they saw my bite-scar. They're Slytherin purebloods so they know all about Dark Creatures. I know that Malfoy knew what I was as soon as he saw it. I _Obliviated _them. It was a really bad thing to do, I know, but I was scared they would tell everyone about me. I don't really know what to do now. I'm sure Dumbledore must know something – he knows everything that goes on in this school - but he hasn't said anything.

I don't have any friends, Mum, and I think my Inner Marauder died when I cast those memory charms. I haven't felt it for months. The wolf is inside me, though, pacing up and down and telling me to hurt people and bite people. Everyone thinks I'm crazy at school, but I don't know how to be normal. When I see other people with their friend it makes me feel sick and my throat hurts. I sometimes want to scream at them "Why won't you be my friend!" but I know already. They can see the wolf inside me, even if they don't know what it really is.

The wolf has changed me, and I don't think there is a way to change back. I think if you knew me now, you wouldn't like me. There is something in me that makes people not be able to like me.

You used to love the moon. We both did. Now I hate it so much I would tear it out the sky and smash it to bits if I could.

You would hate me for that too.

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18th July

Dear James,

Thanks for the letter. Things are okay here. It's nice to see Regulus again. He helped me pull a welcome-home-prank on old Aunt Maude. Evil hag, she is. She keeps telling my mum to disown me and burn me off the family tree and send me to my goodfornothing Uncle Alphard. I wish she would.

Anyway, Evil Aunt Maude sits there in the lounge when she visits, pouring giant sloshes of fire whiskey into her tea and growling about Muggles and Dumbledore and how awful I am. Can you really blame Reg and me for filling her fire-whiskey bottle with Mum's hair-loss potion? It's not meant to be drunk, I think. It's meant for ladies to use on their hairy legs or something.

Well, anyway, it was HILARIOUS! Every scrap of hair on her whole pee-smelling, wrinkly, disgusting old body fell out, and they haven't found a way to make it grow back yet. I'm in the cellar now. They locked me in here as punishment. Reg guessed I would be in here a lot this holiday, so he hid some candles in an old barrel before I came home so at least I have some light (they took my wand). He also left this parchment and quill here so I had something to do. It was the bravest thing he's ever done. If Mum found out she would be furious.

I saw something weird at the station before I went home. I saw Lupin with this old bloke who must have been his dad. He (his dad) took something out his pocket and pressed it to Lupin's arm. I think it really hurt him because he bit right through his lip until it bled. Then his dad whispered something to him and he just followed him off the platform. His whole arm was scarred like his wrist. I know you're going to be mad at me for me starting my Lupin-watching again, but I just don't get it. If he's powerful enough to hurt four giant Slytherins, why can't he stand up to his own dad?

Anyway, I'd better go now. I think Regulus just slid a note under the door. I'll slide this one back under so he can post it for me maybe. I hope you get it.

Sirius

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Siri,

Wen do you think mum will let you out? She neva left you in ther longer than 2 days befor, and its already bin 3 now. We shoodent of done that too Aunt Maude and I dont know why she didn't punnish me also. She must of nown I helpt. I hop you found the candels and stuff ok Ill go and bribe Kreecha to bring you some food.

Regulus

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_Remus Lupin's Summer Journal_

_July 25_

Hi Mum,

Everyone would laugh at me if they could read this. Or maybe think I was crazy (er) or something. I know it's stupid thinking I can talk to my dead mum through a Muggle notebook.

I wish you were here still. If you were, you could teach me how to make more burn-potion. I've run out and I don't dare ask Dad for more. There's a burn on my stomach from last Monday because I yelped like an animal when I dropped a cabinet on my toe rather than saying 'ow' like a normal person. It's a really bad one and I think it might be getting infected. I've been locked in my room since then. It's been eight days and the wolf is getting really grumpy about being locked in here. I'm sick of toast. That's all he gives me in this room – toast and toast and toast. And no butter or jam like I get at Hogwarts.

If I'm good, he says he might let me out tomorrow. I promised to stay out of his way. I like sitting in the garden, though now it has walls all the way round it to keep me in. Remember when it used to be open all the way to the forest behind us?

The burn is all reddish-white and swollen. I think it was because he kept the spoon on there for so long. I thought I was going to faint it hurt so much. If it gets pus, then I really have to worry, right? It's very hot as well. Is that bad? I don't know what to do. I wish you were here. I wish anyone was here. Even my stupid roommates from school who don't like me. At least they don't hurt me. And I think if I was really in trouble they might help me out. They're Gryffindors and it's what Gryffindors do. As long as they didn't know I was a werewolf. If they knew that they would report me to the Ministry, I think.

They watched me a lot this year. Over Christmas I even thought they might start to talk to me. Someone gave me presents for Christmas. Well, Dad sent me a silver spoon as a warning about what would happen to me when I came home for summer, but other people did too. It's the first time I've had real presents since the Christmas before That Night. One was from this boy called Frank. I think he likes me a little. He doesn't hate me, anyway.

But other people left me presents too. Some chocolate frogs and fizzing wizbees. They were wrapped up but didn't have labels. I thought they might have been from my dorm mates, but they never said anything, and after Christmas they avoided me even more than before.

I kept the presents, though. I haven't eaten a single thing. I have them on top of my cupboard, and I will take them back to school after summer. I don't know who my secret friends are, but I'm glad they sent me presents at Christmas. If I knew who they were, I would be able to send presents back. That's what friends do isn't it, Mum? They give each other presents and stand up for each other and protect each other. It's nice to know that two people out there cared enough to send them to me.

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July 28th

Dear Sirius,

You mother locks you in the cellar as punishment!? How long does she keep you there? I know it's long enough that you need candles and parchment and quill to keep you busy. Seriously, mate, that's not normal. She shouldn't be treating you like that. I thought you were exaggerating when you said she hit you and made you bleed. I thought you only said that to make me feel sorry for Lupin. You should tell someone. It's not on.

Your prank did make me laugh. I wish I thought of it when my Great Grandma Hortense came to visit. She's the most disgusting old bag I've ever met. She treats me like a house elf, ordering me around when my parents aren't there to tell her off. And she has hair coming out of her nostrils and this giant boil thing on her neck. I would be doing her a favour making it all fall out.

About Lupin. I don't really know what to say. Maybe whatever he did to the Slytherins he got from his father? That's why he wouldn't be able to protect himself against him because his father would be stronger. He's a weird one. I think it's best if we keep away from him. If we make friends with him, who knows what would happen? I still don't get why you're so obsessed with him.

My parents are going to buy me a new broom for my birthday in August. The Nimbus 1003. It's AMAZING! I saw a picture in _Which Broomstick? _ I was playing Quidditch with Dad yesterday, but it's not the same without you. I wish you could come and visit here, but I guess your Mum wouldn't let you. Maybe we can meet up in Diagon Alley?

Write back soon,

James

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1st August

Dear James,

I would love to meet up in Diagon Alley with you and Sirius! We could meet up around your birthday so we can give you your presents. I'm afraid this has to be a quick letter. Mum wants me to go to see this new film (like a wizarding photograph except it tells a whole story) with her. Send me a date and I will see if I can come!

Peter

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12th August

Dear Remus,

I have requested that this owl only approach you if you are alone. I have argued with myself all summer, and I find that I could not help but to send you this letter. As you know, I won't be your DADA teacher next year as I am going back to my Auror work, but I would like you to know that if you ever need any help, all you have to do is write to me and request it.

I know you thought you had fobbed me off with your pretty line about the wolf always hurting you, but I saw the panic in your eyes. I'm trained to notice things like that. I really believe your father is hurting you, and I can't just ignore what I know and leave you to suffer. As much as you may play the part of an adult, you are still a child and, because I know of the abuse, I have a responsibility to do everything in my power to protect you.

Don't worry, Remus, I will not do anything drastic without your consent, but if I could, I would make sure your father was severely punished for hurting you as he does. Please allow me to do something to help you. There is a whole department in the Ministry devoted to helping abused children. Let me contact them for you?

I'm not only writing this out of a feeling of responsibility. I find myself in awe of your strength and courage. I am amazed that someone as young as you has faced the dreadful trials in your life and come out with a calmness and maturity beyond your years. Please allow me to help you.

Neil Anders

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13th August

Dear Professor Anders,

I'm fine and I wasn't lying. The wolf does hurt me here and at school. It's not 'abuse' or whatever you think. My Dad never did anything to me that I didn't deserve. He's only trying to help make the wolf stay inside me and not hurt people.

You don't know anything about me. You think I am good and calm and normal, but I'm not. You don't know that I am wicked and broken and wrong. If you saw my room you would know what I mean. You could see what the wolf does – all blood and scratches and torn furniture and pee where it marks its place.

Please leave me alone.

Remus Lupin.

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_Remus Lupin's Summer Journal_

_July 23rd_

Dear Mum,

The burn has become very infected, and I have others now as well. Dad says he's 'keeping the wolf at bay', and I want to believe him, but every time he presses the silver to my skin, it just seems to make to wolf angrier. I feel really hot and dizzy. I really need some healing potion.

And I am worried about Professor Anders as well. He's wrong about Dad. Dad's only trying to protect me. He calls it 'abuse', but it's not true. Dad would never do that. You loved him didn't you? You would never love someone who did things that were bad. He is doing these things for my own good. I told Professor Anders that. It was the right thing to do, wasn't it, Mum? Does this even make sense? I feel really strange. I have to think of some way to get some healing potion.

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23rd August

Dear Frank,

I wonder if you would be able to send me some healing potion? My father is away, so I can't ask him. I burnt myself on the stove and it has got infected. I'll pay you when we get back to school. I'm too far away from any apothecary to buy some myself.

Thank you,

Remus

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Dear Remus,

My Mum says you should see a healer if your burn is infected. Where's your dad? Why are you alone at home? You could get really ill if there's no one there to look after you. Please go and see a healer. Here is some potion for now. Don't worry about the money. It was in our cabinet already.

Frank

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	14. Questions and Secrets

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of Harry Potter's world and its wonderful characters. I own nothing but the plot I made up and a few OCs. **

_Child abuse casts a shadow the length of a lifetime._

_(Herbert Ward)_

**REMUS:**

Remus was glad he'd managed to find an empty carriage almost as soon as he stepped onto the train at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. He had been feeling increasingly hot and strange and dizzy over the last few days and the swelling of the burn had not really got any better, in spite of the potion that Frank had sent him. He worried that he was going to have to go to the Hospital Wing. It was two weeks away from the last full moon and he would have a difficult time persuading Madame Pomfrey that the oval-shaped burns that now littered his body along with the bruises came from that transformation.

He placed his hand over the infected burn through his robes. It throbbed painfully at the touch and his head felt heavy as he leant it against the cool glass of the window. It hadn't been this bad when he'd been lying still and silent in his room at home. The movement seemed to have made it worse.

As the train began pulling away from the station, a couple of first years peered around the door of his compartment and Remus snarled at them until they squeaked and ran away. He fought down the wolf and slumped back in his seat. It was a long journey to Hogsmeade station. Although his savage wolf-glares managed to keep him his compartment, the motion of the train made him feel iller, hotter and dizzier than ever. Even getting out his new journal didn't work as a distraction because his eyes were too fuzzy to focus on it properly.

It felt like days of torture, rather than hours before the train finally approached Hogsmeade station. He staggered out, glad that the house elves would be moving his trunk up to his dorm so that he didn't have to drag it behind him. He pulled himself up into the nearest coach, ignoring the horrible bat-horse creature that pulled it.

He looked up to see the coach's other occupants and groaned when he met the incredulous gazes of his roommates.

"Who said you could sit with us, Loopy?" Pettigrew demanded.

Remus stared fuzzily as Potter elbowed the smaller boy in the ribs then exchanged a meaningful glance with Black who, Remus now realised, was sitting beside him. Unable to face an argument, Remus sighed and pulled himself up to move to another coach. He jumped when he felt a hand on his arm, stopping him.

He blurrily followed the line of the arm up to Black's face, and saw Black's eyes widen as he looked at him.

"Bloody hell, mate," he said, peering at Remus in the dim light of the carriage, "You look like death warmed up."

Black gave a tug on his arm and Remus' legs gave out. He sat back down hard and shivered when a hand touched his clammy forehead. He was very dizzy now and the boys' faces were flicking in and out of focus like a fuzzy wizarding photograph. He thought Black or Potter might be saying something else but he couldn't be sure because there was a strange roaring in his ears. He was vaguely aware of the rocking movement of the carriage which made his stomach roll, and of urgent, muffled conversation around him. Someone tried to loosen his robes and Remus thought he might have snapped at their fingers, but he wasn't sure.

Then the rocking stopped and the door opened. Someone put their hand under his arm to try and help him out the carriage, but they touched one of his silver burns and the pain was enough to tip him over the edge. Blackness took him.

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Remus slowly came back to consciousness. He didn't need to open his eyes to know he was in the hospital wing. His strong sense of smell immediately identified the sterile scent of clean sheets, scrubbed stone and healing potions.

Someone – Madame Pomfrey, he guessed – had removed his robes and shirt and was now rubbing something very cold onto the infected burn on his belly. The coldness and pain made him tense but he didn't make a sound and didn't open his eyes. He heard her begin to mutter a spell under her breath and slowly the hot, throbbing pain that had been plaguing him for weeks began to ease. Unable to help himself, he shuddered with relief.

"Mr. Lupin? Remus?"

Reluctantly, Remus opened his eyes and stared up at her sleep-blurred image. He was not in the hidden back-room that he usually stayed in after his transformations, he realised, but in one of the beds in the main area of the hospital wing.

"Who did this to you? I know these are silver burns."

Even with his sleep-fugged mind, Remus knew he couldn't tell her the truth. She wouldn't understand. She wouldn't realise his father only hurt him to prevent him from becoming the animal the wolf threatened to make him. His mind raced as he desperately tried to think of a good explanation.

"Remus? Talk to me. please. Who did this?"

"Some people. From where I live." His voice sounded really odd. Scratchy and dry, like the voice of an old man, only not because it hadn't broken yet.

"_Who _Remus?"

"Just some people who know I am a w-w-werewolf." It was strange how difficult it was to saw that word out loud.

"Grown up people?" Her voice was deceptively gentle, but Remus could hear the underlying current of vengeful anger in it. For some reason, it made him feel warm inside. It was the first time since his mother had died he could remember anyone displaying anger on his behalf. His father was usually angry _at _him.

"Yes." No need to let her think he was weak.

"Who?"

Remus closed his eyes and didn't answer.

"Why didn't your father do anything to help you?"

"I hid it from him."

"_Why_?"

"I didn't want him to w-worry. I thought he might be w-worried."

"That's ridiculous! Do you know how much _poison _was being released into you body from this infection? If those boys hadn't brought you in there might have been permanent damage. How could your father not have noticed this?"

"He's b-b-been away." Remus was quite desperate now.

"Oh, Remus." She leaned down and gently put her hand to his forehead, preventing him from trying to lift his head. "I'm not angry at you, love, but this is inhumane. This is _abuse_."

Remus winced violently at the word.

"Tell me who did this."

"I don't know! I don't kn-n-now! They didn't show their faces."

She was silent. She picked up the pot of lotion again and began applying it to the smaller burns that littered his body.

"How long, Remus?"

"What?"

"How long have they been hurting you? Don't think I can't see that some of these burn scars are old. I should have noticed before. I don't know why I didn't."

Remus didn't answer. He couldn't think of a good story and his head felt fuzzy again.

"Remus?"

The white of the ceiling was starting to melt into the grey stone of the walls and Remus blinked at everything started going dark around the edges. Madame Pomfrey sighed and Remus glanced down his body as she began poking at the edges of the infected burn again. It looked disgusting. She had obviously opened it to drain it, and it now looked like a bloody crater a few inches above his naval. One if her pokes made a thread of violent nerve-pain shoot through his body, right up to his chest and down to his thighs. Unable to help himself, he let out a loud, wolf-like yelp of pain. As soon as he heard it, he automatically froze, waiting for the punishment to come.

"It's sorry, love," she whispered, obviously thinking his frozen tension was due to his pain rather than his ingrained fear. "I know it hurts, but I need to check it's clean. You'll have to stay here for a few days, I think."

"But the Sorting…"

"Is already long over. You were unconscious for a while, Mr. Lupin. It took both Black and Potter to drag you in here, with that Pettigrew opening doors."

Remus didn't know what he thought about that. He remembered Pettigrew calling him Loopy, and Black's hand on his arm.

"Drink this."

He obediently opened his mouth and Madame Pomfrey poured what he recognised as pain potion down his throat. Gradually the walls became fuzzy again as he slipped into sleep.

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He woke again to the sense of someone watching him. A year of sharing the same dormitory immediately allowed him to identify who it was by scent – a delicate mixture of good-quality fabric, spicy citrus from expensive shampoo and the blue-grey smell of an approaching rain-storm that was probably all Black's own.

Remus groaned, shifted and opened his eyes, turning his face towards the scent. Black was standing over him with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his robes and an unusually solemn expression on his handsome, aristocratic face. The lack of his usual mischievous grin made Black look older for some reason.

Remus flicked his gaze away from those slate-grey eyes and down towards his own chest, checking that Madame Pomfrey had dressed him in a hospital gown so his wounds and scars were covered.

"It's okay, I can't see them," Black said, tone unreadable.

"What?" Remus kept his voice as blank and unwelcoming as possible. It was almost not a question.

"Your scars," Black said, not seeming to be fazed. "I can't see them. But I know they're there. You almost bit my fingers off when I tried to loosen your robes to help you breathe on the coach."

Remus had no idea how to react in this situation. It was uncomfortable but at the same time oddly alluring. He was having a civilized conversation with a person his age and the word 'loopy' hadn't been used once yet. "I don't know what you mean by s-scars."

"Like hell, you don't."

Before Remus could react, dosed up as he was on sleeping drought and pain potions, Black reached down and yanked back his sleeve, revealing his scarred arm. The bunched fabric pressed against one of the burns and caused Remus to emit a half-swallowed whimper of pain. He jerked his arm out of Black's grasp and pulled down his sleeve, cradling his arm defensively.

"Sorry." For the first time ever, Remus thought Black might have actually meant the apology. "I didn't mean to hurt you. But I _do _know about the scars. What does Madame Pomfrey say, hm? Does she know who does this to you?"

"Don't what you mean," Remus said, curling up a little further into his defensive ball. All good feelings had vanished and he only wanted Black gone.

"Does she know it's your dad who's hurting you?"

If he had used the word 'abuse' Remus might have been able to withdraw fully from his words, but even if he knew it was for his own good, it _was _his father hurting him. "You don't know _anything _about my father," he snapped. "He only wants what's best for me. Now leave me the hell alone!"

"I hit a nerve," Black observed, head tilted to one side so his wavy black hair brushed his shoulder.

"You know _nothing_."

"I know I saw him press something to your arm at the station. And I know it hurt you enough that you bit through your lip."

Remus felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. "You're wrong!" he screamed, voice hoarse and protesting. "_You're wrong!_" His terror and fear gave him the strength to sit up in bed, his fingers curled into claws, lips skinned back from his teeth. Black actually took a step back, looking frightened.

"_GET OUT!_"

Black backed out of the hospital wing quickly, just as Madame Pomfrey burst out of her office. Remus sank back to the bed feeling utterly drained.

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2nd September

Dear Minerva,

I need to speak to you regarding Remus Lupin. I'm worried that someone at home is abusing him. Hints that he has unconsciously made in the past lead me to believe it might be his father, but he venomously denies this and claims it is 'prejudice adults who know he is a werewolf'. I am very concerned for his health – both mental and physical. Please stop by the Hospital Wing and your earliest possible convenience to discuss how we should approach this matter.

Poppy


	15. Wishing on Moonshadows

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of Harry Potter's world and its wonderful characters. I own nothing but the plot I made up and a few OCs. **

**SIRIUS:**

"Sirius!" James yanked invisibility cloak off himself and Peter as they hurried out of the Hospital Wing.

"What?" Sirius snapped. He was feeling shaken and short-tempered after his conversation with Lupin.

"You said you were just going to see how he was. What, in the name of Merlin, possessed you to confront him with your half-arsed ideas about his dad hurting him? Don't you _remember _what happened to those Slytherins? Or are you just stupid?" James was speaking in as soft a voice as he could manage through his anger, but they still received odd looks from a couple of Ravenclaw third-years who passed them in the corridor.

"_Someone _has to say something." Sirius elbowed James viciously in the ribs. "You _saw _how bad he was. And we only saw his arms! Can you picture how terrible the rest of him must be for him to have fainted like that?"

"I thought he was going to attack you," Peter said tremulously as he trotted at James' side. "His eyes were so weird and his teeth got all gnashy."

"He bloody _would_ have if he'd been in any condition to." James sent Sirius a furiously meaningful look. "Sirius _knows _that. _Popperlop_," he added as they arrived at the Fat Lady. The portrait swung open and they climbed inside.

"It wasn't his fault," Sirius said. "He was just defensive."

"I never said it was his _fault_," James slammed into the dormitory and threw his invisibility cloak onto his bed. "Did I say it was Lupin's fault?" he rounded on Peter who looked positively terrified at being asked to make a contribution to the argument.

"I d-d-don't…I d-d-d…"

James waved him off and turned back to Sirius. "How do you know that he won't come and attack as soon as he gets out of the Hospital Wing?"

Sirius felt the blood drain from his face. He hadn't considered that at all.

"And if you think I'm going to try and save you, you'd better think again. I wouldn't even blame him. You were a right git."

"James…" Sirius sat down hard on the edge of his bed. His friend seemed to notice his anxiety because his expression softened a bit and he came to sit beside Sirius, patting him awkwardly on his shoulder.

"Forget it. Of course I'll help you. I'm just saying we don't even know how he's going to react."

There was silence in the room for a moment before Peter said uncertainly, "What can he do, anyway? He's only a second year like us, and he's tiny. Only as tall as me and much skinnier."

James and Sirius didn't answer. They were both remembering the vivid image of tiny Lupin standing over the groaning forms of his hulking Slytherin attackers and the expression on his face as he screamed '_Obliviate!_'four times.

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"This, gentlemen, it a wonderful day," James announced, first thing on Monday morning. He threw himself dramatically onto the seat beside Sirius and began loading his plate with sausages and toast.

Sirius gave him a dirty look, wishing – not for the first time – that James Potter was _not _a morning person.

"Dunno what you're talking about," he grunted. "The sky is blacky-grey and raining, we have Herbology next in the greenhouse the furthest away from the main building so we're going to be soaked. We have Potions after Herbology and DADA after that with a bloke so ancient that Professor Dumbledore must have gone in search of a new professor in Wurblefoff's Retirement Home for Really Decrepit Wizards."

"S'right!" Peter said, waving his fork sleepily and almost stabbing Alice Richards in the ear. She gave a high-pitched squeal and edged away from him.

"What I _meant_," James said, his mouth now full of sausage, "is that I just met our dear friend, Snivellus on my way down here and I practiced that new chipmunk spell we found in that third year transfiguration book on him."

Sirius felt himself brightening up at that. "Really? Did it work? Ooh! Where is he?"

James a piece of toast in the direction of the staff table where a familiar greasy-headed figure was talking urgently to Madame Pomfrey while the Hufflepuff fourth years on the table nearby sniggered and pointed. Madame Pomfrey stood up and Snape turned around to follow her out the hall.

Sirius roared with laughter when he caught sight of his face. The Slytherin's cheeks were puffed up hugely and covered in golden-brown fur. His teeth were long and rodent-like and his ears appeared to have rounded, sprouted fur and gravitated to the top of his head to settle among his greasy locks. The furious expression on his face really clashed with the rodent look.

"_Mr Potter!_" said a very stern voice, making them all jump violently and swing round to face an angry Professor McGonagall. "How _dare _you use a transfiguration spell on another student like that! That will be _twenty _points from Gryffindor and _two _hours detention tonight cleaning out cauldrons with Professor Slughorn. By _hand_!"

James assumed a contrite expression and widened his eyes at her. "I'm _so _sorry Professor. I really don't know what came over me!"

She glowered at him and strode towards the doors of the Great Hall. As soon as she was out of earshot, the three of them broke out in peels of laughter again. Sirius laughed so hard he almost fell out of his seat and ended up jamming his elbow in the marmalade to save himself. James lay his head on the table and proclaimed in words broken by his laughter, "It w-w-was worth it…every l-last cauldron." He then collapsed against Peter who fell into Alice's lap, who decided that she would never sit anywhere near the boys again if she could possibly avoid it.

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As Sirius had pointed out rather unkindly at breakfast that morning, their new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher was, indeed, incredibly old. He reminded Sirius very much of a tough little elderly tree. He was only a few inches taller than Professor Flitwick, and his skin was so wrinkled and weathered it looked more like wood than flesh. It clung in wiry tendon and muscle to all his limbs which were sharp and crooked and bent in unlikely directions. His hair was snow-white and whispy, and floated round his head in a way that was very reminiscent of a dandelion. Two bright white-blue eyes stared out of the nest of wrinkles that was his face.

Although he looked so old that anyone walking beside him kept their arms half-raised in case a stiff breeze tried to blow him over, he moved round the school with sharp, rickety agility, the feet on the ends of his weathered legs seeming only to brush the floor because they had been told that was what was supposed to happen, rather than because they really needed to. His robes were even more ancient – with the v-shaped waistband and high collar that marked them as having been in fashion about a century and a half previously.

Sirius, James and Peter sat near the front of the class their first lesson, instead of the back as they usually did so that they could observe their new professor more closely. A few minutes later, the door opened and the old professor sauntered in and looked them over. He seemed to be on the point of laughter.

"I am Professor Tecracken," he announced, turning to scrawl the name on the blackboard behind him. His voice and his handwriting were both as crackly and spiky as his movements. "I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year. Dumbledore called me away from where I've been working in the forests of Norway doing field research on Lethifolds to teach you young hooligans.

"I assure you that I am more than equipped to deal with you, and have been been a professional dueller and an Auror, a dragon keeper and an elder of Wizengamot...at least I was until I transfigured the seat-cushions of everyone attending the 1971 European Summit into whoopee cushions that farted out the tunes to each country's national anthem every time they began to make unreasonable demands. An important thing to learn from this experience is that one of the requirements of becoming an international leader in any European country is to completely lose your sense of humour. Today we're going to work on shield charms."

This was all said without Professor Tecracken seeming to take a breath, although he did break off to snigger at the memory of the whoopee cushions for a few seconds.

Sirius turned to look at James who raised his eyebrows, a slow grin spreading across his face.

As the class broke into pairs to practice the wand movement and _protego _incantation for the shield charm, Sirius was distracted with wondering if Professor Tecracken would teach him the whoopee cushion charm to use on the staff table at dinner. His eyes followed the ancient professor as he made his rounds, his dry laughter filling the room as Evan Rosier managed to get through Gorian Bulstrode's shield to inflict him with the bat-bogey hex.

Bulstrode scowled at the professor's reaction as Rosier twirled his wand, smirking in amusement. However, Sirius noticed that instead of discouraging the Slytherin, Tecracken's laughter seemed to spur him into angry determination. It only took two more attempts before Rosier's ear-hair hez was reflected off Bulstrode's shield and rebounded back onto him. Tecracken gave them both a jerky, approving nod, before moving onto Lily Evans and Alice Richards.

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"I'm so _bored_!" Sirius announced that evening, flinging his astrology book across the room and sulking.

Peter looked up from where he was sitting on his bed miserably hand-feeding the trumplehoot poppy plant he had knocked over in Herbology. Professor Sprout had given him stern instructions to take it away with him and feed it with little pieces of rolled up bread until the next morning to help it recover from the trauma.

"I know," he said to Sirius gloomily. "This is the most boring thing I've ever had to do. How can it still be hungry? I've been feeding it all day!"

"There's nothing to _do,_" Sirius paced the room, kicking his trunk as he passed.

"What? No James to pull pranks with?" Peter said, grinning a little. "No Loopy to torment?"

Sirius felt something inside him tighten as he paused to stare over at Lupin's empty bed. He assumed the boy was still in the hospital wing, but after their last conversation on Friday evening, he hadn't dared to go and check. He also didn't know why he _wanted_to check and that bothered him even more. Whenever he tried to push the thought of Lupin out of his mind, the memory of his pale, thin, sweating face leapt into his mind.

He couldn't forget the moment when Lupin had stumbled blindly into their coach, his pupils dilated with fever and his arm crooked protectively around his stomach. When he'd fainted as Sirius tried to help him out the coach, Sirius had managed to grab his sleeve to keep him from slipping to the ground. James and mumbled a shocked, "Bloody hell!" and Sirius had looked down to catch the sight of Lupin's arm fully uncovered by the sleeve he had grabbed.

It was lined with scars of all sizes that snaked viciously across his otherwise pale skin. But there were new wounds as well. Scratches and round, inflamed sores that looked a little like giant burn-blisters. He remembered the day on the station; seeing Lupin's father press something to his son's arm.

"Sirius?" Peter sounded concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I'm going out to see James." Sirius suddenly couldn't face spending a whole evening cramped up in this room with Peter and his plant, which was letting off the distressing aroma of rotting pears.

"You _can't_," Peter said patiently. "He's in detention."

Sirius, feeling more cheerful now that he had a plan, bounded over to James' trunk and jerked the lid open. He dug around for a while before triumphantly pulling out the invisibility cloak.

"You'll get him into trouble." Peter warned him.

"'Course I won't," Sirius said. "This is what loyal pranksters do – venture into the depths of evil Slytherin dungeons to keep their poor imprisoned comrades company. Want to come?" He waved the cloak invitingly.

Peter sighed and looked regretfully at the plant. "Better not. Professor Spout would have a fit if I left it here to die."

"Sorry, mate."

Peter shrugged. "Make some mischief for me."

"Always."

Sirius sauntered out of the room and down the stairs to the Common Room. As soon as he was out of the portrait hole he slung the invisibility cloak over his shoulders and headed in the direction of the dungeons. He walked as quietly as possible since it was close to curfew and he knew he would be sent back to his dorm if he were spotted by a teacher.

As he passed the Hospital Wing, however, he was distracted by the sight of a small, thin figure disappearing around the corner of the corridor ahead of him. Months of observing the surprisingly supple and liquid way that Lupin moved (when he wasn't tripping over the hems of his too-long robes), made the silhouette ahead of him immediately recognisable.

Sirius hesitated a long moment, thinking about James alone in the dungeon with the cauldrons, then shrugged and followed the figure of Lupin instead. He knew that James would be mad if he gave up the chance for more information on their odd roommate just to keep him company.

He made sure he followed the other boy from a long distance. Sirius wasn't sure how sharp Lupin's hearing was and didn't want to risk discovery. Lupin walked – or perhaps flowed was a better word for it – in and out of the shadows of the corridors. If Sirius hadn't been looking for him, he would probably have missed the silent shape that moved in and out of the pools of darkness cast by statues, suits of armour and alcoves in the walls.

He wondered where Lupin had learnt to move like that. Perhaps it was at the same place he had learned to defeat those Slytherins the way he had. Sirius wondered if Lupin's abilities had anything to do with the way his father treated him.

Lupin arrived at one of the smaller doors in the main corridor leading out onto the grounds of Hogwarts. He opened it carefully and slipped out, shutting it behind him. Sirius waiting a few minutes to give the smaller boy time to get a good distance away before following him. He slipped out the door and his eyes searched the grounds until he spotted the little dark shape moving in the direction of the Quidditch pitch. He followed, still keeping his distance. It was completely dark by now and he had to stretch his eyes to make out the shape of Lupin far in front of him. The weather was windy and chilly – the first touch of autumn already sharp in the air. It blew against Sirius' face though the cloak, making his eyes water as they approached the more open ground of the Quidditch pitch.

Lupin moved a little way onto the pitch and tilted his head back to stare with peculiar intensity towards the sky. Sirius crept closer, retreating underneath the nearby Ravenclaw stands for protection from the worst of the chilly wind that Lupin didn't appear to notice. He followed the boy's gaze, but all he could see was the brilliantly clear night sky, dotted with stars and the moon that hung directly above them. It was just under two thirds of the way full, but because the sky was completely clear, it seemed very big and bright. It cast silvery-blue light across the Quidditch pitch and Lupin lifted his arms as if to allow more of his body access to it.

Sirius crept forward as far as he dared until he was only a couple metres away from where Lupin stood on the pitch. Now crouching in a tiny ball under the lowest part of the Ravenclaw stands, he froze suddenly when the wind blowing against his face brought with it the sound of singing – savage, tuneful and almost fiercely determined.

He glanced away from to moon and towards Lupin's face to see the boy's mouth moving as he gazed up at the sky, his arms still lifted a little from his sides. If he strained his ears he could just make out the words before they were snatched way by the wind.

_"… followed by a moon shadow! Moon shadow, moon shadow! Leaping and a hopping on a moon shadow, moon shadow moon shadow!_

_And if I ever loose my eyes, if my colour all runs dry. Yes, if I ever loose my eyes, hey – I won't have to cry no more…"_

So abruptly that Sirius jumped, Lupin's legs seemed to give out and he sat down hard on the grass. He stopped singing, his tawny hair whipping round his face as he held his right hand out, fingers spread, to hover over the grass next to him. He turned his head away from the sky for the first time and appeared to be studying the sharp lines of the moon shadow cast by his hand.

He was wearing winter hospital pyjamas and his scuffed, brown shoes, but they were thin enough that when the wind pulled them tight against his body, Sirius could make out every one of Lupin's prominant ribs.

Sirius wondered what he should do. He could see the outline of a thick bandage wrapped around the other boy's stomach through his pyjamas and guessed he wasn't supposed to be out of the Hospital Wing. Not for the first time, Sirius genuinely did wonder about Lupin's sanity. Not in a joking or cruel way, but with genuine worry that Lupin might have something really wrong with his mind.

He saw Lupin's mouth begin to move again and strained to hear the words.

"…Miss you all the time," he way saying, though Sirius knew there was no one around that he could be talking to. "But every time I try to remember the old times, they get mixed up with the new ones. I look at the moon and I love it and I hate it. I _hate_ it." Lupin flexed his pale fingers which that still hovered over the grass and Sirius saw him tilt his head to best observe the movement of the moon shadow he cast beneath them.

"You told me not to let him change me," Lupin continued, his voice so soft that Sirius could barely hear him over the wind. It seemed to waver uncertainly, even though his face remained as impassive as it nearly always was. "But it's part of me now, and I don't think I can help it. I can't talk to anyone about it. No one likes me and I think even the Marauder has left me. People keep pestering me about how Dad treats me as if it's wrong when I know it isn't. You wouldn't love someone who was wrong. Or maybe you would. You loved me." He sighed and gave a little jerk of his head to flick away the hair that the wind had whipped against his face.

"It was all so much easier when I believed in the magic of the moon shadows." He tilted his head back to stare up at the moon again for a long moment, apparently lost in thought. The hand that still hovered over the ground clenched into a fist. Lupin jerked his head back again and stared at it, his gaze flickering down to the shadow underneath. He spread his fingers again, and without moving that hand, he tugged his wand out of the waistband of his pyjamas with the other.

He turned his right hand over, so his palm faced up and pressed the tip of his wand to it. He murmured a low spell that Sirius couldn't hear, although he jerked in shock when he saw the darkness of blood welling up from a cut across Lupin's palm. The boy waited until the blood had formed a shallow pool, then flipped his hand over again so that the dark liquid splashed directly onto the moon shadow his hand cast on the grass.

"I wish…" Lupin murmured, watching the drips soak into the blades of grass. "I wish for a friend. Yes. I wish for a friend who won't mind that I don't know how to act and won't call me Loopy all the time. I wish for a friend who will look at me and see me and know me and will not hate me for it."

He sat still for a very long time, the drops of blood from his hand stopping after a while as they began to clot. Eventually he moved, turning his palm back up and bringing it towards his face to he could examine it in the moonlight. He frowned a little, then brought it to his mouth and licked away the blood in a manner that reminded Sirius disturbingly of an animal licking a wound.

Then he rose unsteadily to his feet. He reached up and clutched his head as he swayed a little and Sirius tensed, wondering if he would need to catch Lupin again and bring him to the hospital wing. But the moment seemed to pass, and Lupin tucked his wand back into the waistband of his pyjama bottoms and began to make his way back to the school.

Sirius followed – again keeping a long distance between them – and noticed that while Lupin's movements still seemed to be smooth and flowing, they were also tentative, as though each one cost him pain.

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"Do you think it was real magic?" Peter asked, as the three of them sat under a weeping willow the by the lake the next day. It was lunchtime and they had finished eating and retreated outdoors while it was still warm enough to enjoy it.

"Of course not!" James said impatiently. "He was obviously trying to talk to someone he used to know who is dead. He made up that 'magic' on the spur of them moment. It wasn't real."

Although it was a fair assessment, Sirius felt as though the solemnity and reverence of the night before was betrayed by James' rather emotionless summary of it. He couldn't blame the other two though. They hadn't been there to see it.

"It was really sad," Sirius told them, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs out in front of him. "He seemed so... you know... lonely."

"I _know_," James said. "But you have to admit that he's hiding something."

Sirius made an impatient little noise, but said nothing because it was true.

"I wonder what happened to them?" Peter said.

"Who?" asked James.

"The person he was talking to."

They both glanced at Sirius who shrugged. "I don't know. I told you everything he said. I know as much as you do."

"Maybe he killed them accidentally," James said.

They had eventually informed Peter about the incident in the corridor with the Slytherins. Peter's watery blue eyes grew wide as he stared at James. "You think he might have?"

"Of course not!" Sirius said, glaring at both of them. "He loved whoever it was. I could hear it in his voice. He would _never _have hurt them."

"It was just a thought," James said reproachfully. "No need to bite our heads off."

"A _thought_? You were accusing him of _murder_."

"You're right." James reached out to squeeze his shoulder. "I shouldn't have said that."

Sirius sighed and fiddled with a piece of grass as silence fell between them.

"I've got something that will cheer you up," said James after a while, obviously making an effort to lighten the mood. "You won't _believe _what I discovered when I sneaked a look at one of Slughorn's potions books in detention last night."

"What?" Sirius asked, his bad mood lightening a bit as he saw a wicked gleam in his best friend's eye.

"Slughorn left the room for a bit because Peeves was gluing the chairs to the floor of the classroom down the corridor and I looked in one of those books he keeps on that shelf by his desk. I found this seriously cool potion. It makes a person grow parts of the animal his House represents. If we can get it to everyone in the Great Hall at breakfast there'll be Ravenclaws with wings or beaks, or Hufflepuffs with stubby legs or Slytherins with no arms or legs…" He broke off to laugh at the thought of Snape writhing around on the floor like a snake.

"Brilliant!" Sirius breathed, as he imagined the pandemonium this prank would cause. He imagined Madame Pomfrey trying to fit everyone into her Hospital Wing and Dumbledore and McGonagall trying to calm down the slithering Slytherins and squawking Ravenclaws.

"We would have to give it to the Gryffindors as well and make sure we take some," he mused. "Otherwise they'll know it was us."

"That's okay," Peter said, jigging up and down excitedly. "We have the coolest animal anyway. Imagine being able to roar like a lion, or having claws instead of nails."

"It's a really complicated potion," James warned. "And we need Billywig wings and ground Fwooper eggshell which we will only be able to get from Slughorn's private stores. And then we have to think of a way to get it into the pumpkin juice one morning so all the students drink it."

"Hm…" Sirius said, his mind racing. "When's our next potions class?"

"Thursday afternoon," Peter supplied.

"We'll steal it then. Peter, you're the worst at Potions – no offence, mate."

Peter shrugged. It was the truth. He would have entirely failed first year Potions if Sirius and James hadn't helped him out with his homework.

"Well," Sirius said, thinking as he spoke, "You'll have to do even worse than usual. Completely botch it so Slughorn has to come and help you fix it before it explodes. While you do that, James and I will run into his office and steal the stuff from his private stores. You wrote down the potion, didn't you, James?"

James pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket and waved it at Sirius, grinning as their plan started to come together.

"I can do that," Peter said earnestly, looking a mixture of proud and apprehensive at being given such an important role.

"We know you can, mate," James said, slapping him on the back. "And I was thinking we need to visit the house elves and figure out how the food appears on the tables and where it comes from. You said a while ago that you heard some older students talking about how to get into the kitchens, right? Well, that's where we'll start..."

They bent their heads together again, plotting and scheming.

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On the Wednesday before the first part of 'Operation Slithery Slytherins' was due to be executed (namely – the stealing of potions ingredients), two things happened that made Sirius very happy.

The first thing actually happened to James on the way down to breakfast that morning. He had been hiding from Filch after trying to hex the caretaker's new kitten, who had red eyes and a vicious temperament and threatened to be a great inhibiter in any of their night-time schemes. He'd ducked behind a statue of a hump-backed witch, wand in hand, pressing against the stone hump as he tried to keep as much out of sight as possible. Then, as he tried to peer round the statue to see if Filch was coming, he had glimpsed the word, _'Dissendium' _barely visible and carved in tiny letters in the crook of the hump-backed witch's armpit. He had murmured it aloud in surprise and then felt even more surprised when the stone hump moved aside to reveal a secret passage.

That started plans for the Gryffindor pranksters to put 'Operation Secret Passageways' into action as well. The three of them made plans to discover as many secrets about Hogwarts Castle as they could over the course of their second year. If they knew all the secret passageways and rooms, the possibilities for pranking were endless.

The second thing that made Sirius happy (although he didn't plan to mention it to James or Peter) was that Lupin was out of the hospital wing and back in classes, looking very thin and pale, but otherwise fine. He didn't know wht this pleased him so much, but couldn't help feeling glad when he observed Lupin sitting at his table in Greenhouse Seven, carefully re-potting his violet-fanged captula fern. His pale fingers had soothed the irritable plant, and seeing them spread out to gently stroke the leaves made Sirius think of blood and moonshadows.

James and Peter were still wary of Lupin, and Sirius was unsure of how to react to him since their argument, so when they went to bed that evening, chattering quietly about secret passages, they ignored the presence of the smaller boy in their room.

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"Add some ground moonstone and lungwort," Sirius hissed to Peter, who was staring at his cauldron in dismay. It appeared than when he _tried _to do badly at potions, it had the opposite effect. The hair-growth potion in his cauldron was more off-colour than the others in the classroom, but not by much.

"How much?" Peter asked, looking at Sirius beseechingly.

"It doesn't matter, you idiot!" James said impatiently from his other side, "You're _trying _to get it wrong, remember? Now hurry up. Slughorn's heading this way."

Sirius and James got up and sauntered towards the student supply closet, keeping their eyes on Peter who had obediently dropped some moonstone into his potion, followed by a crushed doxy wing case and handful of lungwort. To their relief, the potion went from relatively normal to disastrously luminous orange and bubbling within a few seconds.

"_Mr. Pettigrew!_" Slughorn said with alarm, hurrying over to Peter's cauldron. "What on _earth _have you done this time? Quickly, quickly, slice some grayling caterpillars and add them before it explodes… _not that way, silly boy_… here let me do it. You deal with the marigold leaves…honestly, you just don't pay attention…"

Sirius and James crept as subtly as they could away from the student supply closet and slipped into the Slughorn's office through the door he had left ajar. They hurried over to his private supplies, which were neatly labelled and kept in a cabinet against the far wall, just behind his desk.

"Quickly!" James whispered. "Billywig wings and ground Fwooper eggshell."

They scanned the shelves, relieved to note they were in alphabetical order and reached up quickly to grab what they needed.

"…really will explode, Mr. Pettigrew!" said Slughorn's voice, approaching his office. James and Sirius exchanged panicked glances and ducked down to crouch behind Slughorn's desk.

The door swung fully open and Slughorn came in, heading towards them. "Damn register…" he muttered, beginning to shuffle through the books and papers. He moved around the edge of the desk, coming into view. If he glanced down now he would immediately catch sight of both of them and then they were _definitely _in trouble.

"Sir!" said a familiar voice as a new presence entered the room. "I think you should go and check Pettirgrew's cauldron again. It's gone purple and there's these sort of smoking bits and wiggling things..."

James and Sirius stared at one another in shock. Lupin came round the table, placing himself strategically in front of James and Sirius, giving them time to scuttle out of sight around the other side of the table.

"Mr. Lupin, please do not enter my office unless you are invited," Slughorn said sternly.

"But sir, Pettigrew's potion!"

"Really Mr. Lupin – " Slughorn began. It was only because James and Sirius were crouched a few inches away from Lupin around the side of the table that they saw the wand Lupin gripped, hidden by the worn, black sleeve of his school robe. They heard him mutter a soft incantation under his breath as Slughorn lectured him and he flicked the wand in a tiny movement towards the door of the office. There was a resounding _boom!_ from the classroom next door, followed by yells of surprise, girlish screams and swearing.

"Dear Merlin!" Slughorn yelled, and hurried out of the room. Sirius and James stared up at Lupin open-mouthed. The smaller boy turned around and raised an eyebrow at them.

"Well? Aren't you going to make a run for it?" he asked, looking pointedly towards the door.

They didn't need telling twice. Sirius and James scrambled to their feet and hurried out of the office. The classroom beyong was in chaos. It turned out that Lupin hadn't exploded Peter's cauldron, which was a good thing, Sirius thought. His potion was such a disturbing colour there was no telling what it might have done. Bulstrode had been sitting nearest to the office door and it was his potion that now covered most students within three feet of his cauldren who consequently had hair growing from every area the potion had touched in rather grotesque locks.

Slughorn was so preoccupied with calming everyone down and administering the antidote that he didn't notice Sirius and James sneaking out of his office.

"Mr. Bulstrode!" he was saying, as he handed Delilah Kettle a vial of antidote, "You added apricot kernels before bringing it to the boil _didn't you_?"

"I…I…" Bulstrode appeared to be at a loss for words.

"Twenty points from Slytherin for not paying attention and interrupting my class!"

Sirius glanced up to see Lupin saunter nonchalantly from Slughorn's office. Sirius was surprised. He thought he'd had been behind them when they had come out. Lupin brushed past Sirius and James' desk and dropped something into Sirius' lap. It was a piece of parchment wrapped around two small vials. On the parchment was a neatly written message.

_If you're going to go to all this effort to cause a distraction, at least remember to take what you came for. And decant it from the container he stored it in. He would have noticed if you had taken the whole lot. RL_

Sirius turned wide eyes to James who was also reading the note in disbelief. It was only now that Sirius remembered they had taken the Billywig wings and ground Fwooper eggshell off the shelves, but had left them on the side when they had hidden.

Sirius turned to look at Lupin who sat calmly at the front of the class again, paying no attention to the chaos around him. He was stirring his cauldron and paused to add ground hawthorn roots carefully, tilting his head to the side to examine the effect it had on his potion.

"What the hell?" James murmured in Sirius' ear.

"I'm so sorry, lads," Peter scuttled over to join them breathlessly. "He just took off before I could stop him. What happened?"

"I really have no idea," Sirius said, his eyes on Lupin's back.

When class finally ended, Sirius and James looked for Lupin to thank him, but he seemed to have slipped away without them noticing him and was nowhere to be found.


	16. Solving the Secret of Friendship

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of Harry Potter's world and its wonderful characters. I own nothing but the plot I made up and a few OCs. **

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**

_"You were the one who made things different, you were the one who took me in. You were the one thing I could count on, above all. You were my friend."  
( Tom Petty)_

**REMUS:**

It was odd, thought Remus – the feeling he got in his chest as he aided the Gryffindor pranksters in their bid to steal illegal potions ingredients. Even though they had clearly not expected his help, and had been in too much shock to thank him at the time, he'd felt, for the first time, that he was part of something special that involved other people in a way that wasn't tormenting him. It made him feel giddy and proud, and when he'd glanced round the office and noticed their stolen potions ingredients sitting on the counter by the shelves, he hadn't even thought about it before he grabbed two empty vials from the shelf, and quickly filled them with the contents of the jars before setting them back on the shelves again.

Slughorn had been yelling at Bulstrode as he grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment to write his message before sauntering out the office again. That was one thing Black and Potter needed to learn – something that Remus had learned many years ago when trying to escape discovery and beating from his father. People _notice _sneaking. It was the reason he'd noticed Potter and Black entering the office in the first place.

Even though they had only been here one full year, the three Gryffindor pranksters had become famous among students and professors. Among students as legends in prank-making and sweet-talking their way out of trouble, and among teachers as the probable source of all mischief occurring in the school. The Slytherins didn't have any such complicated emotions on the matter as they were usually the targets of the worst pranks. They hated them.

Remus had to agree that even if they weren't good at sneaking or elaborate time-consuming spells, the prankster gang's raw power and natural talent, as well as their inventiveness and bottomless reservoir of innocent facial expressions that all implied 'Who, me?' more than made up for it.

His mother would have found them hilarious - just as she'd always been amused by the Inner Marauder. His father would hate them. As for Remus – he'd felt his Inner Marauder spring to life when he noticed Slughorn entering the room shortly after the boys.

Afterwards he'd been frightened and embarrassed. He wasn't sure what his roommates would think of him butting into their plans. He wondered if he'd assumed too much and if they would assume that what he had done was an obvious attempt at courting their friendship. And the worse thing was that, until that moment in potions when he had glanced up and seen the sheer delight and mischief on the faces of Potter and Black, he had not even realised he'd wanted them as friends.

That night when he'd slipped out of the hospital wing to court the moonshadows and invent blood-wishes had been a turning point for Remus. He'd lain in his hospital bed afterwards, and felt closer to his mother than he had since That Night. The guilt of his responsibility for her death, the horror of what he had become, the pain and the aching resignation that he would never fit in anywhere seemed to fade into the back of his mind as he lay there. He'd closed his eyes and could almost feel her fingers brushing the tawny strands of his hair behind his ear and her soft, rich voice murmuring the words to a hundred Muggle songs.

He knew that the moon had always ruled his life – as a boy and as a werewolf. It terrified him and drew him. He hated it and loved it. It was the source of his happiest and most devastating memories. It was a contradiction that would live with him all his life and, as he'd listened to that imagined voice, he'd felt his acceptance of the fact settle over him like piece of parchment – smooth and soft, but with edges that could slice deep enough to draw blood.

He could imagine his mother now, staring at him incredulously as he whined about having no friends. She would shake her head so her long tawny-gold hair moved in ripples down her back and scold him back into common sense. "Remus," she would say, "it's your own fault you have no friends. People don't just wander up and make friends with other people for no reason. You have to convince them that you're worth caring about. Convince them that under the wolf there still lies the little boy who lived for the magic of mothers and moon shadows, that under the wolf there is someone who is intelligent and brave and mischievous."

And he could imagine answering her. "That little boy died on the night that you did. He left with you, clinging to your spirit so he, too, was dragged away. He left a monster in his place."

But even then, the imaginary Serena would not let him turn away. "You promised, Remus. You made a promise to me as I died that you wouldn't let the wolf change you. You will fight to keep that promise until you have no reason to carry on anymore."

And that more than anything had led to his new resolve to fight until he could fight no more. He would hide the monster that he was, and perhaps someone, one day, would believe that lie and love him for the person he wished he could be.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""" 

It turned out that Professor Anders wasn't as easy to deter as Remus had hoped. At breakfast the day after the Potions incident, while he attempted to ignore the stares of his roommates, a huge eagle owl with speckled brown and grey wings landed in front of his plate and immediately began gulping down his sausages.

Remus scowled. He hated dishing up his food from the silver platters and toast racks on the table, and was not amused that he would have to do it twice for one meal. _And_ there were no more sausages. He reached out and pulled the letter off the bird's leg, already knowing who it came from as he recognised the owl from over summer.

_Dear Remus,_

_If you thought your letter would keep me from investigating this matter, you are sorely mistaken. Clearly the abuse you have suffered under your father's care is even worse than I had first anticipated. He has twisted your mind and your emotions in ways that are unforgivable_

_Please understand that I am only trying to help you. I feel that it is my responsibility, as the only adult who is aware of this problem, to support you and help you to fight it. _

_Remus, I taught you for a whole year, and saw no sign of the wicked, animalistic person you seem to think yourself to be. I know what you are, and I know that you have not let it change you. I saw a kind, quiet, intelligent but ferociously independent young man who has altered the side-effects of his curse so that they add to this personality rather than detract from it, and it is for his sake that I will continue to aid you whether you want me to or not. _

_Yours in determination,_

_Neil Anders_

Remus felt his hands physically shaking as he read the letter. He kept his expression as blank as he could, but he could not stop the trembling. He was utterly torn. He felt angry and hurt and bitter. And yet one line in the letter refused to let him dismiss the rest. "_I know what you are, and I know that you have not let it change you."_

It was too close to home and it threatened to slice through his defences as though they were butter. When he read that line, it appeared in his head in his mother's voice.

"Damn it!"

He crumpled the letter in frustration, and stood up, no longer hungry. He'd started towards the doors of the Great Hall when he felt a heavy weight land on his shoulder. He turned to glare at Ander's owl.

"No answer. I have nothing to say to that man."

It looked at him through solemn orange-yellow eyes and made no effort to move.

"Go away!" Remus gave it a shove so it slipped off his shoulder, but it fluttered briefly before landing on his other one, digging in cruelly with its claws. Its message was clear: _I'm not leaving without a return message._

Remus decided to ignore it. He was sure it would leave once it got bored of following him around. He headed towards his first lesson of Charms, and was relieved when the owl left his shoulder as he entered the classroom. That had taken no time at all.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""" """""""""""

It turned out he was wrong. As soon as he left the charms classroom, the giant owl settled on his shoulder once more with a gentle hoot and only nipped his ear lightly in reprimand when he deliberately let out a deep reverberating wolf-growl in the hope of scaring it off. It followed him to Potions and Transfiguration as well, then settled by his side, stealing his food all through lunch before following him to his next lessons.

He knew that it was earning him stares and whispers of speculation, and Professor McGonagall had given him a very stern look, but was unable to do anything as owls were allowed anywhere in the school except during classes.

Eventually, lessons ended and Remus retreated to the library, trying not to wince as the eagle owl settled on his head and decided to use his hair as a means of clinging on. He stalked to the section on Magical Creatures and found a book on delivery owls.

He settled cross-legged on the floor with his back to a shelf and the book balanced on his knees. The owl flapped to settle on the shelf above his head and watched him curiously.

He was so absorbed in the book, and he didn't even notice anyone approaching until someone said, "Is that your owl?"

Remus jumped and looked up to see Black, Potter and Pettigrew standing a short way away, staring at Ander's owl who had decided to lean down and nibble at Remus' hair as he read.

"No," he answered carefully, letting his hand rest on the page in front of him so he wouldn't lose his place. "It's not."

"Why's it following you around then?" Pettigrew asked with interest.

Remus hesitated. "Someone wants me to reply to a letter and I don't want to. So they told their owl to follow me around."

"Oh."

The boys stood in awkward silence for a moment, then Potter cleared his throat and said, "you could stun it. Or put a _Confundus _spell on it so it doesn't remember to follow you around. "

Remus sighed and tilted his head up to observe the owl who gave a little hoot and ran its beak through his hair again. "It's not the owl's fault. I'd rather not hurt it. I'm hoping it'll give up and go away. Or that I can find a charm to make it go away without hurting it."

Another silence, then Black took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "We just wanted to say thanks. You know – for the other day in Potions. We could've been in real trouble there."

Remus felt something hot and sweet shoot through his chest and struggled to keep his mouth from breaking into a stupid smile. "My pleasure."

"Are you always that formal?" Potter asked curiously.

_Formal?_ Remus was caught off-guard. It never occurred to him that he was formal. Or that maybe it was his formality that kept him making friends.

Black must have noticed his reaction, because he moved forward and sank to the floor in front of Remus. Remus noticed that Black never seemed to just sit or stand. He lounged. Remus bet that if he were in a room with no walls and no floor, he would find a way to lounge against thin air.

"Ignore James," Black said, flicking a rude gesture over his shoulder at Potter. "He was never taught any manners. That's why he can't recognise them when he hears them."

Remus felt a stab of nervousness. He didn't want to be responsible for causing arguments among a group of friends, but when he glanced up, Potter didn't seemed bothered either by Sirius' gesture or by his words. He just grinned and dropped to the floor as well. Unlike Black, he was all elbows and knees and angles, and he appeared to collapse like a broken clothes rack rather than settle lazily in the elegant, aristocratic way that Black did. Pettigrew followed a bit later – bobbing to the floor and eyeing the others uncertainly.

"Er – okay," Remus said warily to Black's comment.

"And I just want to say I'm sorry for the other day as well," Black said, a bit awkwardly. "In the Hospital Wing. I know I shouldn't have pried like that."

Remus was still for a moment, the memory of the argument in the Hospital Wing coming vividly to his mind. He couldn't think how Black could forgive him for that. He knew he'd really scared him.

"It's all right," he murmured. "I'm sorry for reacting the way I did as well."

The owl hooted, making them all jump, then flew down to land on Remus' knee. "Shoo," Remus said to it, trying to nudge it off. It turned its back on Remus and faced the half-circle of boys in front of him.

"So are you really powerful?" Black demanded, leaning forwards, his grey eyes bright. "It takes a really strong fifth-year spell to blow up a cauldron from that distance."

Remus flushed. "No. I had dropped some salamander scales into Bulstrode's potion on my way to the office. All I needed to do was say a quick reaction charm and they worked with the marigold leaves and _boom!_" He couldn't help his lips quirking a little as he thought of Bulstrode's flabbergasted face and all the other students with hair sprouting from various unlikely areas.

To his amazement, even that small hint of a smile caused giant pumpkin-grins to spread across the faces of the three boys in front of him.

"That's bloody brilliant," Black said, shaking his head in awe. "How on earth did you think of that at such short notice? How on earth did you know that at all, come to that?"

Remus gave him an odd look. "It's says in our potions book in the fifth chapter that you must never add marigold and salamander scales into the same potion if there needs to be a charm on the potion as well. Otherwise it causes an explosion."

"You've read your whole potions text book and we haven't even been back two weeks?" Potter looked shocked. "You need to get out more, mate."

Remus felt his face grow hot and looked down again at the book on his lap. He really didn't understand what was going on here. Were they trying to make friends? Or was this some elaborate prank to make him feel bad?

"Hey." Black's voice was uncharacteristically gentle as he tapped Remus on the knee to get his attention. "That was a joke, Lupin. He wasn't trying to be mean. We're all really glad you read the potions book, otherwise we'd have been screwed."

Remus felt his shoulders un-tense and he managed a small smile.

"Yeah, I didn't mean it like that," Potter said earnestly. He leant forward, expression earnest. "Really."

"So are you like a potions genius then?" Pettigrew piped up.

Remus felt his smile widen a bit at that. "I wish I was. I know all the theory, but it never turns out like I want it to."

Black grinned. "Me and James are good, but Peter's dreadful. The only time he gets a potion even half right it when he's supposed to be getting it wrong."

"James and I," Remus said, before he could stop himself.

James looked at him in bewilderment. "You and I what?"

Remus felt another flush of embarrassment. He was beginning to think he should just let all his blood live in his face and save the trouble of having it rushing there so frequently. "It's 'James and I', not 'me and James'."

The three of them stared at him for a long moment, before they all fell about laughing. "That's brilliant, Professor Lupin," Sirius gasped. "We can't have people butchering the English language like that, can we?"

"Indeed not," Remus said, a reluctant smile on his face. "If you do that you'll gt yourself ostracised from all important literary circles."

"And there goes my life-long ambition," Sirius said mock-seriously.

"So can you guess what potion we're making?" James asked curiously. "You said you know the theory."

Remus screwed up his face in thought, absently stroked the feathers of the owl on his knee. "I'd say some sort of transfiguration potion, judging by the use of Fwooper eggshell. But Billywig wings aren't often used except in potions like the Animagus one that helps you to discover your inner animal. I dunno."

The others were staring at him open-mouthed.

"You really are a genius, mate," Pettigrew said.

"No, I _read_. And my mother was a potions mistress before – " he stopped, suddenly horrified by what he had almost given away. He felt all the colour that had been flooding his face rapidly draining as though someone had pulled a plug in the back of his head. He couldn't let them know she was dead.

"What happened to her?" Black asked quietly.

Remus thought of his useful monthly excuse slipping through his fingers and rallied as best he could. "Sh-she had to stop when she got ill."

There was a long silence before Potter said, "I'm sorry. If course she would've had to."

Remus felt a mixture of relief and old grief flood him. "Thanks, Potter." He managed.

"James."

"What?"

"Call me James. Friends call each other by their first names."

Remus felt as though someone had tied a cord around his heart and yanked it hard. It was painfully wonderful. "Really?"

"Well, yeah," Black – no, Sirius said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We need some sensible planning and theory behind our operations. How would you like to join the Gryffindor pranksters?"

Remus' mouth opened and shut wordlessly for a few moments, then he felt it light up in the first proper grin he had given for so long he thought he had forgotten how.

"I'd like that," he said shyly.

"Good," Sirius said and Remus couldn't fathom why he looked as happy as he did. Sirius already had friends and Remus wasn't much to write home about.

"Let us show you the potion we have planned," James said, grabbing Remus' arm and yanking him to his feet so he spilled book and disgruntled owl on the floor.

"I was looking for a charm to get rid of the owl," Remus protested.

Sirius shrugged. "Just send the person a note saying 'bugger off' and be done with it."

Remus allowed himself to be tugged out the library without too much protesting.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""" 

Remus lay in bed that night and was completely unable to go to sleep he was brimming with so much joyful energy. He listened to the sounds of his roommates sleeping. James' soft snores, Peter's occasional grunts, Sirius' sighs – as though he were exasperated about the fact that he had to waste this time sleeping instead of planning more outrageous pranks.

Their scents filled the room, and he suddenly realised that even before they were his friends, these mingled smells had brought to him a sense of comfort and peace that he felt nowhere else. He associated them with feelings of safety and relaxation – away from the metallic, animalistic scent of blood and urine that lingered in his room at home no matter how many times he scrubbed it after his transformations. It didn't smell of fear and pain, and until he came to Hogwarts that was all he had known. And now the scents had an extra dimension – they smelled of friends.

Remus smiled and closed his eyes, but they jolted open again when something heavy and clawed landed hard on his stomach. He gave a loud yelp of pain followed by a growl as he realised it was the owl again.

"Lu-Remus?" James – always a much lighter sleeper than the other two, sat up in bed and peered towards him. "You alright?"

"Yes," Remus said, blushing at the concern he heard in James' voice and glad the other boy couldn't see. "Just the owl. I think I'm going to have to go down and write a letter to make it go away."

"I thought it was a dog or something. Thought I heard a growl."

Remus felt his heart rate pick up and struggled to keep his voice steady. "How would a dog get in here, J-James?"

James chuckled. "Fair point. Do you want me to come down with you?"

Remus hesitated. He wanted to accept the offer just because it had been made by someone who wanted to be his friend. But the thought of what Anders' letter was about made him reluctant – especially if Sirius had told James about his own suspicions.

"I'll be okay. It's just to one of my relatives." He hated lying, but his curse had forced him to become very good at it. "You can go back to sleep."

"You sure?"

Remus found it hard to believe that this was the boy who had been so cruel to him through most of the first year. How wonderful that James had changed his mind.

"Yeah."

He slid out of bed and scrabbled around in his trunk for a quill and parchment. Then he crept out of bed and down the stairs. He seated himself on a chair in front of the dying fire, staring at the blank parchment for a long time before he could bring himself to write anything. He wasn't rash enough to simply write 'bugger off' as Sirius had suggested, but he didn't want to encourage Anders.

Eventually, he gave a huff of impatience and just started to write. It didn't need to be good.

_Dear Professor Anders,_

_I've asked you not to keep asking me about this and you won't listen. Please, please leave me alone and don't to send your owl to follow me around school. I am very happy with my life. I've made friends with James, Sirius and Peter and I don't need anything else from you. _

_Please leave me alone. _

_Remus Lupin_

_PS: Your owl ate all my sausages at breakfast and there were no more for me. And then he ate half my lunch and I had to dish up more and I hate having to do that because all the serving plates are silver. You should feed him more because he was very hungry. _

He sighed. That would have to do. He tied it to the owl's leg, let it out the window, and headed back to bed.

"Alright?" James asked sleepily again as he climbed back under his covers.

"Yeah."

"What did you say in your letter?"

"I wrote about sausages."

There was a small pause, then, "Good for you, Remus. You sure you're alright?"

"Yes, James."

And because James had asked him that simple question, his answer was true.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""" 

Having friends was the strangest, most surreal experience. His roommates seemed to have absorbed him into their gang with no trouble at all. Instead of making fun of his unconscious quirks and foibles as they had for the last year, they now seemed to be bizarrely protective of them. They scowled at anyone who called him Loopy, and hexed a Slytherin sixth year boy who had aimed a kick at him one day in the library when he been sitting on the floor between the Transfiguration shelves.

Even Peter, who had seemed wary of him at first, had sneakily sabotaged a Ravenclaw's Herbology project after he'd laughed cruelly when he heard Remus murmuring to the venomous tantacular he was pruning and loudly questioned whether he spent his summers in the 'Mental Maladies' ward at St. Mungos.

In the mornings, Remus would get up very early and shower so his new friends wouldn't see his scars. He had nightmares about them seeing his body and guessing what he was. He knew that if that happened, they would have no choice but to turn him over to the Ministry, and he would probably end up in one of those horrific werewolf reservations.

Luckily, the others seemed to have realised he had an aversion to being seen without clothes on. A ew days after he'd sent the letter to Anders, he overslept for the first time in his life. The first thing he was aware of was someone gently shaking his shoulder. He jerked awake and stared wide-eyed at Sirius who hovered over him.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing. You just overslept."

He sat up and saw the others just stirring and wandering around sleepily armed with towels and toiletry bags. How was he going to avoid having to shower at the same time as them?

"You go first, mate," James said, yawning so hugely so his jaw cracked. "We'll go afterwards." He said it as though Remus' paranoia was the most ordinary thing in the world.

Remus stared at them feeling a mixture of relief and embarrassment run through him. "But you'll be late."

Sirius grinned and tweaked Remus's nose. "When has that ever bothered us?"

"Th-thanks." Remus scrambled out of bed and grabbed his towel and clothes before retreating to the bathroom for the quickest shower of his life.

That morning at breakfast, all Remus' happy relief drained away at the sight of the giant eagle owl that soared towards him. James was the only one of his friends to notice it at first. Sirius and Peter were falling asleep over their breakfasts as usual.

"Hey, isn't he that same owl again?" he said as it landed by Remus' plate.

"Looks like it," he sighed.

"And after all the effort you went to sending your relative a threatening sausage letter as well."

"Sausage letter?" asked Sirius, perking up.

James nodded gravely as Remus pulled the letter off the owl's leg and read it quickly.

_Dear Remus,_

_I am glad to hear you've made soome friends. They're good lads, if a bit wild – though you will need to be very careful to hide your secret from them. James and Sirius especially are very bright and will have no problem working it out if you give them too many clues. _

_I can see that you are determined not to accept help from me. May I ask instead that you just write to me? I think it's important that you have an adult who you can go to if you need any advice or help for anything. Or if you need any extra healing potions that you don't feel comfortable asking Madam Pomfrey for. _

_I am sorry about Brutus eating your sausages. I assure you he gets fed plenty and he is just greedy. I think he likes you as well. He seemed most eager to deliver this letter so he could see you again. I know that Dumbledore arranged for the ordinary plates and cutlery to be steel, but unfortunately, the serving plates have to be silver. Something to do with house elf magic and keeping the food warm and preserved, I think. _

_Tell me about your new DADA teacher. I hear that Dumbledore got that crazy old Tecracken in. A genius in defence, but I hear he has a dreadful sense of humour. I can imagine Sirius and James ending up like him when they're old men._

_I'm back to working in the Auror office again, and my new wife, Angela (we were married over the summer) is working in the 'Magical Creatures Department'. So if push comes to shove we have an agent in there to rescue you if it all goes wrong. _

_Please write back to me. I'm worried that you have so little adult support, Remus, and I want to make sure you're okay. _

_With even more determination than before,_

_Neil Anders _

Remus stared at the letter. He really had no idea what to make of the man. He understood that Anders cared about his safety for some reason, but he could not fathom what it was. He'd felt very reluctant to write back at first, but there were so many reasons he could see for doing so now. He could get more burn lotion with no questions asked and so avoid another issue like the infection this summer. And if Anders' wife would really be willing to break him out of a reserve, she was definitely a good person to know. He'd read terrible stories about what happened to werewolves who were confined there.

And if he was truthful to himself, it _was _nice just to have an adult to talk to who knew everything and wasn't currently his teacher. As long as he avoided the subject of his father, Anders might be able to give him help and advice on all sorts of things.

He felt a touch on his arm. "You alright there, Remus?" Sirius asked him in that odd gentle tone that he never seemed to use for anyone else.

"Yeah, fine. I think I'll just go to the library and answer this before lessons start."

Sirius looked at him with concern. "I thought you didn't want to write to this person?"

Remus flushed. "Well, I didn't, but I've changed my mind."

He was aware of all three of them studying him with conern.

"Really, it's okay."

They nodded and Remus quickly stood up and headed for the library. Brutus looked a little disgruntled to be leaving so soon.

_Dear Professor Anders,_

_I'll write to you if you don't mention that other thing anymore. I would be grateful for some more burn lotion and have put some money for it in here. There's lots of silver around and I have run out. _

_I don't want my friends finding out about me either, even if your wife could rescue me if it all went wrong. _

_Professor Tecracken is very odd. He does laugh a lot at the strangest things. James and Sirius really like him, but I think that Peter's a little afraid of him. Sirius said I can't judge him since I am very strange as well, but he said it as a joke, not in a mean way. He is never mean to me anymore – nor are the others. They don't care that I'm not like other people. Sometimes I don't even notice if what I am doing is not normal, but they don't mind. They hexed this Slytherin the other day for kicking me in the library because I was sitting on the floor. It was a jelly-legs hex and it was very good. You would have been proud – remember how long we spent learning it last year?_

_Brutus is sad because I am writing back so soon. I think he wanted to hang round me all day like last time. He ate all my sausages again, but Sirius gave me some of his. The others would have as well, but Peter had already eaten all the rest._

_Remus_

_PS: Do you like pranks, Professor? I remember you laughing that time when Sirius and James charmed the Slytherin-banner-snake to burp 'Slytherins have boring hair' every time one of them ate a roast potato and it took Professor Flitwick ages to break the charm because they hadn't figured that out and the Slytherins kept eating roast potatoes. You can tell Sirius and James thought up that insult. They wouldn't listen when Peter told them it wasn't really insulting. _


	17. A Marauder's Vocation

**Disclaimer: Everyone knows these fabulous characters belong to JK Rowling**

**A/N: Thanks to Middle-Earth Muggle who suggested using the lyrics to 'Blood on my Hands'. Thanks also to my wonderful beta, Hydraspit who works tirelessly to pick out all my typos and clumsy sentences.**

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Straight from your eyes it's barely me,  
Beautifully so disfigured.  
This other side that you can't see,  
Just praying you won't remember._

_There's blood on my hands  
Like the blood in you,  
Some things can't be treated so.  
Don't make me, _

_Don't make me be myself around you_

_(Blood On My Hands – The Used)_

**SIRIUS:**

It had not been as hard as Sirius thought it was going to be to persuade James to befriend Remus Lupin. Sirius thought that a lot of it had to do with guilt. James had been the cruellest of them to the smaller boy, and he knew he had not deserved help when their plot almost failed in Potions class that day.

Peter had been a little harder to talk around. After hearing about the incident in the dungeon corridor and the moonshadows, he had been very wary of Remus. This was partly due to fear – they still couldn't figure out how someone as little and unassuming as Remus Lupin could best four Slytherins – but also to do with the fact that Remus was undeniably very odd. It was Peter's greatest ambition in life to fit in and be popular, and Sirius knew he feared that with Remus in their group, the rest of the school would shun them.

Sirius frankly didn't care what people thought. For some reason he could not fathom, Remus called up a protective instinct in him that refused to go away. And he was not the only one who was affected. After only took a few days in Remus's company, the other two were also beginning to show signs of it. One day stood out in particular. They had gone in search of Remus in the library and found him sitting cross-legged on the floor between the Transfiguration shelves (he never used the tables and Sirius had come to accept it as another one of his peculiarities). Madame Pince – usually so strict about acceptable behaviour in the library, seemed happy to step over Remus as though he were an accepted part of the furnishings.

The three of them were just about to sneak up on Remus from behind (something they had been trying to do for a long time. Remus seemed to have a sixth sense that enabled him to sense sneaking and they had yet to surprise him) when a sixth year Slytherin sauntered around the shelves without looking down and almost stepped on Remus's fingers. Remus yelped and jerked his hand away, and the Slytherin scowled down at him and snapped 'Move, you freak!"

He lashed out with his foot and it landed with a thump in Remus's side. The smaller boy went deathly pale and doubled over.

Sirius didn't even stop to think. His wand was out in a flash, but it was James's voice that furiously snapped the jellylegs hex before Sirius even had a chance to open his mouth. The Slytherin gave a little grunt of surprise as his legs turned to rubber and he began wobbling and staggering around in an ungainly fashion.

Remus swung round to stare at the three of them, who all had their wands trained on the older boy.

"Come, Remus," Sirius murmured, walking over and leaning down to tug Remus to his feet.

"You little – " the Slytherin began, but stopped when James's wand dug into the back of his neck.

"If I was you I wouldn't even _think_ about hurting our mate again." James jabbed the boy's neck again, making him stagger again on his unsteady legs before they gave out and he sat hard on the floor. Sirius smiled when he saw the anger in James's face.

"He just seems so… not weak…we know he's not weak…maybe…vulnerable?" James said when Sirius mentioned it to him later that evening. They were up in their dorm going over the final potions recipe for the prank while Remus was downstairs in the common room attempting to help Peter with his Transfiguration homework.

"Vulnerable." Sirius tried out the word and found that it fit very well. "Yeah. We know he could easily have taken on that Slytherin with those weird powers he has, but we also both know he wouldn't have."

"Yeah, that's what I mean. And he's so strange. He has all these little quirks, and he doesn't even realise half of them are there."

Sirius frowned a little. "Nothing wrong with having quirks."

"I never said there was, mate." James sighed and sat up on Sirius's bed to meet his eyes. "It's like I said - I feel the same. Well," he amended, "probably not quite the same. You're just freakily protective of him."

"I am not."

"You are, though. And I know why. It's all those little things that make me so sorry I was ever mean to him. You know, like how he saves all his sausages for that bloody owl when it comes. Or how he always sits on the floor rather than a chair." James shook his head, waving his hand as he tried to encompass Remus's odd nature with further examples.

"Have you noticed how carefully he dishes up his food – one bean at a time, like it's a really hard potion that he could screw up anytime. Or how he's always reading and you can actually see him wince when someone uses bad English. And how he smiles at things that no one else finds funny. Or he always stares at the sky like he's looking for something. And he always makes that weird yipping sound and tries to jump away when someone touches him and he didn't know they were going to. Even if he _does _know, he stiffens up. And it's like he doesn't even know how to act normally – only read it in books – so he's always…I dunno… looking over his own shoulder to check if he's doing it right. And then, if he sees he's done something not quite right, he looks all scared like someone's going to punish him for it."

Sirius nodded. James put it more eloquently that he could. "It's his Dad."

"What is?"

"The one he's afraid will punish him. I think it's his Dad."

James groaned, throwing a quill at him. "Oh, mate. Don't start with that again."

"We have to do _something_. What if we had proof? That it was his Dad, I mean?"

"I…" James struggled with himself. "He's our mate now. I'd want to help him."

"Then _trust_ me when I say I'm right."

They sat in silence for a long time

"What can we do?" James asked eventually.

"I dunno…" Sirius broke off as they heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Remus entered the room and smiled at the two of them before heading over to his trunk.

"Alright, Remus?" Sirius asked suddenly, shifting off his bed and approaching the other boy. There was something off about the way Remus had smiled. Remus turned his face away as Sirius came near.

"Yeah, 'course," he murmured. He tugged his outdoor cloak out of his trunk.

"Wait, where're you going?"

Remus shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Sirius's eyes, trying to keep his head turned away. "Um… home. To see my m-mother."

Sirius felt something flare inside him, and without thinking, he reached out, grabbed Remus's chin and forced his head around. Remus tried to shrink away from the light, but he wasn't quick enough and Sirius got a clear look at his face. It was ice-pale and there were purple-black smudges under his eyes. His skin was hot under Sirius's fingers and there was a thin sheen of perspiration on his forehead.

"You're ill. Stay this once."

"Sirius, please."

Remus twisted his face out of Sirius's grip, eyes flickering away from Sirius's face, wild and trapped.

"You really don't look that well, mate," James said, coming up behind Sirius and peering at Remus with concern.

"Skip the visit just this once," Sirius begged. How would Remus even begin to defend himself if he was this ill?

"I can't, Sirius. Please – I have to go _now_."

Sirius let out a groan of frustration and James reached out to touch Remus's arm. Remus jumped and jerked away, clutching his cloak in his arms as he backed towards to the door.

"Remus, please."

Remus shook his head spasmodically. He looked utterly defeated and Sirius felt something inside his chest scrunch up and hurt. "Sorrysorry," Remus murmured before turning and stumbling out the room and down the stairs.

"We can't just let him go," Sirius said, turning to look pleadingly at James.

"What else are we supposed to do? We're not his keepers. We can't force him to stay."

Sirius stamped over to the bedroom window and glared out. The sun was beginning to set and the pink and peach ice-cream clouds that reflected the dying rays seemed to mock his mood.

"We should go and see Professor McGonogall," Sirius said, suddenly seeing the helplessness of their situation. "If we tell her what's going on maybe she can stop Remus from going home every month."

"But Remus wouldn't want us to tell." James said. "You know he wouldn't. It would be like betraying him."

Sirius growled in frustration and turned away from the window, kicking his bed as he stalked past. "Sometimes you have to do something someone doesn't like for their own good."

"Well…" James screwed up his face in thought. "Maybe it's not what you think at all. Maybe you've got the wrong end of the stick and nothing's happening to him at all."

"You _know _there is!"

"Well, maybe it's not what you think!"

"What else could it possible be?"

James was silent, at a loss. He could think of no other explanation either, Sirius could see it on his face.

"I just feel really bad," he said, avoiding Sirius's eyes. "I've been a right git to him and I don't want to do it again." He ran his hand through his messy hair and flashed a glance at Sirius before looking away again.

"Hey, I know," Sirius said, sitting down next to his friend and squeezing his shoulder. "Tell you what. We don't go now. We wait and see if he's all right when he comes back this time. If he looks bad, then we go, yeah?"

James gave a shaky half smile and nodded.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""" """

The next couple of days seemed to be even longer than they were the last time Remus had gone home. This was the first visit since the four of them had officially been 'friends', and that gave Sirius's worry free reign. He was not the only one affected. He saw the strain in James's face and even Peter's eyes flicked to Remus's seat in lessons, a little crease of worry between his brows.

It was late evening on the second day of Remus's absence, and the three of them were heading up to the dormitory after completing a detention they owed for charming the back of Snape's robes to read 'hundred galleon reward for anyone who can find a bottle of shampoo to that doesn't run for cover at the sight of my hair.' James's was just opening his mouth to speak as they entered the dormitory when Sirius noticed Remus's outdoor cloak flung over his trunk at the foot of his bed. He slapped his hand over James's mouth and pointed.

The three of them crept over and peered through the gap in Remus's bed curtains. The boy was lying curled in a tiny ball at the top of his bed dressed in his usual long pyjamas. The covers had slipped down his back as he slept, and Sirius could see the outline of something bulky clearly through the worn, faded cotton of Remus's pyjamas. It appeared to be bound around his waist. He leant forward and carefully lifted the hem of Remus's pyjama top, exposing a little section of cream-colored bandage. He heard Peter's sharp intake of breath and exchanged a meaningful glance with James who stood at his side. Remus stirred a little and the three of them backed away hurriedly.

Sirius motioned them back out of the dorm and into the corridor.

"Pete, you stay here and make sure he's okay if he wakes up," Sirius whispered to their chubby friend. "James and I are going to go see McGonagall."

"You sure you should?" Peter asked, glancing back towards Remus's bed. "Won't that make him upset?"

"We aren't going to tell him we're going, idiot," James said, rolling his eyes. "But maybe she can stop him going home."

Peter hesitated, then nodded. "I don't want him going back."

"We'll see you later then."

James sneaked back inside to get his invisibility cloak. It was already after curfew, but they knew that Remus would question where they were going if they tried to go while he was awake.

Together they slipped out of the portrait hole and hurried as quietly as they could in the direction of Professor McGonagall's quarters. They knocked on the heavy door on which a plaque proclaimed 'Professor Minerva McGonagall – Transfigurations and Head of Gryffindor House'. James slid off the invisibility cloak and they waited in agitated silence until the door opened and Professor Mcgonagall peered out, wrapped in a dressing gown, but her hair as neat and pristine as usual.

"Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, why are you out of bed and knocking on my door at this time of night?"

"We need to talk to you about Remus," Sirius said. "We know something about him that we think you should know."

Something like a trace of alarm flashed across her face for the briefest of seconds before it was gone again. Sirius blinked.

"Come in, gentlemen."

Sirius and James crept into her living room after her, feeling – as any good rule-breakers would – out of place in an authority figure's territory. They sat together on the edge of a sofa while Professor McGonagall regally took the wingback armchair opposite. Her living room reflected her personality perfectly. The chairs were no-nonsense burgundy and there was a brown rug on the floor on which stood a plain little coffee table. The walls were lined with bookshelves on which stood hundreds of books that Sirius bet were all perfectly catalogued. On the only free wall was a large portrait of a noble-looking man with a neat black beard and red robes. He was currently snoring gently in his frame, and the copper plaque beneath his picture proclaimed him to be Godric Gryffindor.

"Well? What's this about?" Professor McGonagall said, drawing Sirius's awed attention away from the portrait.

"We know something about Remus and we need your help." James ducked his head, shoving his glasses up his nose as he spoke.

"Well?" She looked even more hawk-like and intense than usual and Sirius sensed he was missing something in her expression.

"We think his … father … is hurting him," he told her, feeling absolutely terrible for this betrayal of trust.

Professor McGonagall's expression was completely unreadable, but Sirius got the impression that this was only because it was masking a range of emotions going on underneath. It reminded him of Remus.

"Why would you think this, Mr. Black?"

"Well, you know how he goes home every month to see his sick mother?"

McGonagall gave a curt nod.

"Well," James said, taking over, "When he comes back he looks dreadful and he's sometimes really hurt, and tonight he came back and he was asleep when we came in and we could see he had on bandages through his pyjamas."

Professor McGonagall was very quiet for a long time, then she said; "There may be factors of whic you are unaware. You may be leaping to conclusions."

Sirius stared. She had just been informed that one of her students was seriously injured after a trip home and all she could say was that they were 'jumping to conclusions'? "He's _hurt, _Professor! Don't you _care_?"

She closed her eyes in pinched the bridge of her nose as if searching for the right way to phrase something delicate. "There are things about Mr. Lupin that you don't fully understand," she said. "I cannot disclose them to you as they are not my secrets to tell, and I urge you not to bother him about them either. Things aren't always what they seem."

Sirius scowled as he tried to follow what she was saying and failed miserably. From James's expression he was fairing no better.

"Are you saying you _know _about his father abusing him?" James demanded after a while.

She winced. "I'm saying that you have no proof that it's his father and that an accusation like that could have serious repercussions."

"We _know _that!" James said. "That's why we came to you. We though you could stop him going home for a few months and see if he stops getting hurt. That would be proof."

"And I _saw _his father hurting him," Sirius put in.

This time Professor McGonagall actually seemed to freeze. "What?"

"At the station last summer. I saw him with his father. His father took something out of his pocket. I thought it was a sickle coin at first, but I think it was actually something magical because he pulled up Remus's sleeve and pressed it to his arm – which is all scarred by the way – and Remus's whole face screwed up in pain and he bit right through his lip until it bled. Then his father said something to him and he nodded and followed him out the station."

Professor McGonagall's face was very pale, although her expression did not twitch. Her voice when she spoke, however, was strained. "Are you sure about this, Mr. Black?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Professor McGonagall sighed and rubbed her forehead. "In that case, I suppose that there is no harm in telling you gentlemen that Madame Pomfrey already suspected abuse and has informed me. I tried to talk to Mr. Lupin about it but he was … unwilling … to discuss the matter."

Sirius winced at that. He knew all too well how Remus's unwillingness manifested itself. McGonagall gave a small smile when she saw this and nodded a little.

"You understand that without irrevocable proof of abuse it is impossible for either us, or the Ministry to prevent Remus from going home if he and his father wish him to."

"There _is _proof," Sirius said. "His body is covered in scars."

"And what about his mother?" James said. "I know she's ill 'cause that's why he goes to see her every month, but can't she do something if we told her what's going on? Maybe she doesn't know?"

"Mr. Potter…" she stopped for a second, searching their faces. "I trust nothing I say in this room will go any further?"

"No, ma'am," Sirius and James said together.

"Even the scars on Remus's body would not be enough to prove anything. Remus was in an …accident when he was younger. The same accident that injured his mother so irreparably. He was left with many scars. It would be hard to prove they did not all come from this. Especially if Remus himself denies the abuse."

Sirius was stuck dumb. What kind of horrific accident could have caused such scars?

"But some of them are new," James said. "The wounds, I mean."

"I can assure you, Mr. Potter, if there was a court case, and his father _was _abusing Remus – which we still can't prove – he would make sure there were no new signs of his abuse. And I'm afraid Remus's mother is in no condition to make important decisions of any kind."

"Well what the _hell _can we _do_?" Sirius burst out. "We can't just _leave _it!"

"_Language_, Mr. Black," Professor McGonagall said sternly. "I have spoken to all Mr Lupin's professors, and they are keeping their eyes open as well. I believe that Neil Anders, though he is now technically an ex-professor has also somehow wheedled his way into Remus's affections – much like you boys did - and writes to him regularly. He is aware of the situation and perhaps he will be able to persuade Remus to speak out against his father.

"Professor Anders?" Sirius asked in disbelief. "_That's _who Remus writes to?"

"Indeed. Now, gentlemen, I believe it is well past curfew and time for you to return to your beds."

"But – "

"That was not a request, Mr. Black."

Grumbling, Sirius and James rose to their feet and headed towards the door. As James pulled it open they were stopped by Professor McGonagall's voice.

"You know that you are the only friends he has aside from Anders?"

"Yes, ma'am," Sirius said. "That's why we want to help him."

"Mr. Lupin has had a difficult past. I trust that if he chooses to share some …aspects of it with you, you will continue to treat him with the care and dignity he needs and deserves."

"Of course," they said together.

"He could not have chosen better or more loyal friends."

Sirius felt his heart tighten at those words. He and James left without answering.

"What did that all mean?" James whispered as they headed back to their dorm.

"I really have no idea."

"I just – "

"_STUDENTS OUT OF BED, STUDENTS OUT OF BED!_"

They both jumped at the shrill voice and swung around to see Peeves the poltergeist sitting cross-legged and grinning in the air above them.

"Ooh!" he cackled. "Peevesy _loves _finding students out of bed! Especially naughty, naughty ones like Black-nose and Potty! Filch is gonna be SO mad! _STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED!_"

Sirius and James turned and sprinted down the corridor, cursing as James fumbled to unfold the invisibility cloak they had forgotten to put on as they left McGonagall's rooms. They heard hurried footsteps behind them and skidded around a corner. James's foot slipped and he lurched forward, grabbing the frame of a large gilt mirror that hung in the corridor to prevent himself from falling to the floor. There was a loud, rusty creak and the mirror swung away from the wall on hinges exposing a dingy passage beyond.

"In here!" Sirius said, grabbing James's hand and tugging him in when James only stood gaping at it. He swung the mirror shut behind them just as footsteps rounded the corner. The stood in deathly silence for a few moments as the footsteps hurried past, followed a bit later by Peeves' cackling presence.

They waited for all sounds to fade before breathing easily again.

"Well, that was close," James commented breathlessly.

"Yeah. _Lumos_." Sirius peered down the dusty, web-ridden passage. "I think it's brilliant you keep stumbling on new secret passages when Filch is chasing you. We should set him on you more often."

"I wonder where it goes" James said, ignoring the comment.

"Well, it's going in the same direction as the one behind the hump-backed witch," Sirius pointed out. "Maybe it's another one to Hogsmeade?" They began inching down the narrow passage, holding their lighted wands above their heads. "Looks a bit old and crumbly."

"That makes six secret passages we've found so far," James said, voice tense with excitement. "Not counting the kitchens. We should make a map of them. A secret map that only we can read."

"Huh," Sirius said, "I don't think we're good enough at spells to do that yet."

"I bet Remus knows some."

Sirius smiled. "Yeah, probably, with all that reading he does."

It was a long winding walk down the passage, and they were just discussing turning back when they suddenly came to a dead end.

"It's just a brick wall," Sirius said in disappointment.

James held his wand aloft and examined the wall in front of them. Then he laughed. "It's a copy of the wall at Diagon Alley!" He touched his wand to the same bricks that opened the way to the alley in London and there was a shifting of bricks and a shower of old dust and cobwebs and they found themselves faces with the sight of the back alley behind the Three Broomsticks pub in Hogsmeade.

"Mate, you truly are a genius," Sirius murmured, staring out at the bins and rubbish littered around htem. "I would never have noticed."

James grinned and shrugged.

"We shouldn't go out now, though," Sirius said regretfully. "We need to go back and check on Remus."

"Yeah," James said, rolling his eyes and flicking Sirius a half amused, half exasperated glance. "Come on, let's go before you explode with worry."

They moved away from the entrance and it closed again before heading back up the passage to the Hogwarts again.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

A few days after their chat with Professor McGonagall, an article came out in the D_aily Prophet_ about an attack on a small town in Devon by followers of the rising dark wizard, Voldemort. The terrible things that were done to both the wizard and Muggle residents of the town came as a shock to everyone in the wizarding community and heavier restrictions were placed throughout Hogwarts making it very difficult to slip away.

Sirius, James and Peter could think of nothing more to do about Remus's abuse – especially since even Professor McGonagall's hands appeared to be tied. They kept quiet about the real reason for their late-night excursion when Remus asked, and were relieved when he made a good recovery from his injuries. It killed Sirius that they could only stand by helplessly the next month when he once more headed silently out of their dorm in his outdoor cloak looking sickly and pale.

When nothing else was heard from Voldemort or his followers over the next few months, the restriction gradually became less rigid.

The Gryffindor pranksters were able to sneak away after lessons to begin brewing their potion in a secret alcove behind a statue of a goblin on the third floor. It was a place unlikely to be disturbed, which was vital since the recipe stated that if the potion was made wrongly it could become 'volatile'. Once Remus had explained to the others what 'volatile' meant, both he and Peter were banned from coming anywhere near the cauldron where Sirius and James worked.

"No offence, lads, but you can make a cauldron explode just by looking at it. Especially Peter here," James said in what he obviously thought was a kindly manner. He carefully added a spoon of beetle's eyes to the potion.

"But this is boring" Peter complained. "Remus and I want to have some fun too, and watching you two brew an illegal potion without us doesn't count."

"Well, the prefects aren't hanging over us like vultures any more," Sirius said. "We could try out that new passage behind the mirror and sneak into Hogsmeade. I need to stock up on dung bombs anyway."

"I don't know." said Remus. "What about that Lord Voldemort bloke? He's supposed to be really dangerous."

Sirius glanced up from his makeshift chopping board to where Remus and Peter crouched in the furthest corner of the little alcove. Peter's face had lit up at the thought of a Hogsmeade adventure, but Remus's was dark with worry.

"We wouldn't let anything happen to you, Rem." he felt a surge of affection rise in his chest as he saw amber eyes peering over the heavy transfiguration book the other boy was reading.

"I know, but – "

"Come on, Remus," Peter butted in. "It'll be fun."

"James, don't you think we should maybe wait until Voldemort is caught?" Remus appealed.

James appeared to be fighting with himself, though Sirius suspected it was more because his guilt complex rebelled against him disagreeing with Remus after everything he had done to him than due to a real worry about the threat of Voldemort. Eventually he said, "How about if we promise not to go anywhere dangerous? Just to Zonko's and maybe Honeydukes and then back again."

Remus shrugged, eyes down. "All right. If you all really want to."

"Why're you so worried?" Sirius asked, shifting away from the cauldron to kneel in front of him.

"I just…" Remus avoided Sirius's gaze. "Sometimes things… people… are so powerful and you think you can stand up to them and you can't. You take a stupid risk l-like going outside at night or-or-or down an illegal secret passageway and something terrible happens and you wish forever and ever after that you never did it, you know?"

There was silence between them for a long few seconds and Sirius just _knew _that James was also remembering the accident that McGonagall had told them about - the one that had given Remus his scars. He also knew that this was a small glimpse into Remus's own shadowy childhood that might shed some light on some of the other boy's many secrets.

"Remus…" he stopped, knowing what he wanted to say, but unsure of how to start. "If you go through your whole life _never _taking risks you'll never do _anything_. Don't you see that? You can't live your life avoiding everything that might be risky just because it _might _end badly. Where's the fun in that?"

Remus didn't say anything. He didn't raise his head either. His tawny hair had fallen forward so Sirius could no longer see his face.

"Remus?" Sirius leant forward and brushed some of the hair away from Remus's forehead so he could see his face again. "We won't go if you don't want to."

Hesitant eyes rose to meet Sirius's and Remus sighed, his odd half smile quirking the edge of his mouth as he looked at Sirius's earnest expression. "So serious, Sirius?"

James and Peter groaned and Remus's smile grew a bit wider. "Forget it. We can go. You're right – it would be awful to never do anything fun. My Inner Marauder would die of boredom."

"Your what?" Peter asked.

"My Inner Marauder. It commandeers my common sense and makes me do bad things."

The other three laughed. "You? Do bad things?" James looked incredulous.

"Only you would have named it." Sirius said, reaching out to ruffle his hair until Remus slapped his hands away.

"I have one too," Peter announced.

"Sirius doesn't," said James with a grin. "He has an Outer Marauder and an Inner Common-Sense that desperately tried to make itself heard over the din."

"Sounds more like a description of _both _of you," Remus pointed out dryly.

"Well, so what?" Sirius said. "Being a Marauder is much funner than being a normal person."

"More fun," Remus corrected.

"Exactly!" Sirius gestured expansively. "We're the Marauders and it is our duty to cause as much havoc and mayhem in this school at possible. It's practically a calling."

"A vocation," Remus put in, the crooked smile blooming into an all-out grin.

"A what?" Peter asked.

"Vocation."

There was a short silence.

"Yeah," James said eventually. "One of those thingies."

"Yeah!" Sirius said emphatically.

"Yeah!" Peter agreed.

"Yeah!" said James again.

There was another short silence.

"You guys have no idea what a vocation is do you?" Remus said, rolling his eyes.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

They planned their trip into Hogsmeade for the last weekend in November. The potion was finished and needed to brew for two weeks before they could use it, so they had free time to spare. They set out down the tunnel early on Saturday afternoon.

Emerging in the alley behind the Three Broomsticks the four boys headed immediately for Zonko's. It was a quiet weekend in Hogsmeade and they were only ones in the shop as they browsed through the shelves in a state of bliss.

"So much to buy and so little money to do it with," Sirius said, looking longingly from a projectile-snot-blowing handkerchief to a bottle of toenail-sprouting potion.

"I know what you mean," James agreed, his arms already laden with goods.

"I've already spent all my money," Peter said. "I don't get as much pocket money as you lucky buggers."

"You spent all your, too?" Sirius asked Remus, noticing that his arms were empty as well.

"I don't get any." Remus thrust his hands into his pockets, attempting to look like he didn't care.

Sirius stared at him. "What, none?"

"Well, twice a year I get a galleon from an account that my m... that one of my relatives left me. But I usually spent it on parchment and quills and stuff for school."

"But what about your parents?"

"We d-don't have a lot of money." It was obvious he wished had hadn't said anything.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sirius demanded.

"Why? So you could g-g-give me some of yours? I don't take charity."

"It wouldn't be charity, Remus. It would be friendship. It's what friends do."

Remus looked uncertain for a moment, as he always did when the subject of 'what friends do' came up, then he shook his head. "I don't want any money anyway."

"Rubbish. You love chocolate. I bet you'd kill for some Honeydukes," James said. "We'll get you some. We owe it to you anyway for dragging you here."

"You didn't drag me, I came myse – "

Remus broke off as there was a series of loud cracks from outside. The four of them rushed to the door and peered out. Standing in the main street of Hogsmeade was a group of twelve figures in dark robes. Sirius felt his heart judder in fear as a few of them turned their heads and he saw they were wearing white, skeletal masks.

"Oh Merlin!" James peered out the window, face pale with horror. "You know who they are, don't you?"

There was a broken scream and two women were dragged by a spell from out of the Three Broomsticks over the road. The black-robed figures were laughing. Two of them cast spells on the women with the bellowed word "_Crucio!_" The women began screaming even more loudly, their limbs jerking and spasming as if they were having fits.

"Are you _crazy?_"

The four of them swung round to face the old man from behind the counter. "Get away from the bloody window! Quickly - go out the back door and run as fast as you can back to Hogwarts."

Sirius, frozen with fear, felt a small hand on his back giving him a shove forward. "Come _on_, you idiots!" Remus shoved him towards the back door behind the counter.

"Quickly!" the man said, ushering them out, and sending terrified looks over his shoulder. "You boys shouldn't be here at all."

The screams of the women in the street were joined by others now. Both male and female.

Sirius felt his legs spur into action. Suddenly, they were all out in the small lane behind the shop and then they were running like hell, dodging into alleys and lanes, their breaths harsh enough to sound like sobbing, though they were all still too much in shock to be crying.

"Fas…ter!" Sirius panted, his lungs on fire.

There were four cracks of apparition from the alley behind them and Peter managed a shriek of terror even as they kept running. Then he let out another shriek, this time, one of pain and Sirius swung round to stare in horror. Peter hung by the back of his robe in mid air, dangling above four laughing robed figures.

"Pete!" James cried, and the masked faces turned in their direction.

"Runaways?" one said, his voice amused. "But I can see from your little badges you are Gryffindors. Aren't you supposed to be _brave_?"

Sirius, James and Remus stood frozen as they stared at their chubby friend, suspended and sobbing above them.

"L-l-let him go!" James managed to say, fumbling to draw his wand.

"Good try," Another of the black-robes sneered. "Try it again without the stuttering. _Crucio!_"

Peter began to shriek and twitch and scream just as the women in the street had. A trickle of blood came from his nose.

James cast the jelly legs hex, but the black-robe blocked it as easily as swatting away a fly. He laughed. "Is that the best the great Dumbledore can teach you?"

He briefly lowered his wand and Peter hung limp and shaking for a few seconds before he lifted it again and the screaming started once more.

There was a tawny blur from Sirius's side. He wasn't quite aware of what was happening until he saw the black-robe who had tortured Peter crumple to his knees clutching his groin in the same way Malfoy had that day in the dungeons. Blood was pouring from behind his mask, nose clearly broken and his wand had fallen to the floor. Peter dropped from the air with a loud thump and lay on the cobbled ground gasping and shuddering.

Before the other three black-robes could react, one of them was knocked against a wall, hitting his head hard and falling unconscious.

Remus hesitated and Sirius saw the last two bringing up their wands.

"_REMUS!_"

Remus swung round, dodged one spell with what seemed to be inhuman speed, but was hit by the other. Sirius saw it cut deeply into his side and blood began pouring out. The black-robe let out a triumphant breath and wasn't ready when Remus leapt and slammed him to the floor, grabbing his head and bringing it hard to the floor with a loud crack. The man twitched and then lay still, also unconscious.

The last black-robe aimed another spell, but this time, Sirius was ready and terror for his friend helped him to dredge up the memory of a spell Remus had shown him in a fourth year DADA text book.

"_Petrificus Totalus!_" he screamed, hitting the man from behind. All the black-robe's limbs stiffened and he fell back against the floor.

Sirius got ready to rush towards Remus, but the boy was already standing, dripping blood. "Quickly - f-follow me," he gasped.

"What about Pete?" James said, pointing to their friend who appeared to be unconcious.

Remus leant down and picked him up. Sirius and James stood open-mouthed as he slung Peter over his shoulder as though he weighed no more than his school bag.

"Quickly, damn it!" He started running down the alley again, Peter's head bumping against his back. Sirius and James exchanged quick looks, then stumbled after him.

"Where…are we…going?" Sirius panted to Remus's back as they skidded round another corner.

"We …can't go…b-back…through…the centre…again," Remus answered, glancing over his shoulder.

"Where…the _hell _…are …we going…then?" James demanded.

"Shrieking Shack."

"_What?_" James and Sirius skidded to a halt.

"_Run _you idiots!"

They started again, desperate to get as much space between them and their attackers as possible.

"Shrieking…bloody…Shack?" Sirius yelled as they ran. They broke through the last of the houses and Sirius saw that they were, indeed, only a short distance away from where the Shrieking Shack squatted on its hill like a wizened toad. "It's haunted!"

"Trust… me…" Remus said. And that was all. But Sirius and James obeyed him because he was the only one who seemed to have any grip on the situation, and he was the one who was bleeding profusely from a wound in his side, carrying a boy who was double his weight over one shoulder and still running.

They slowed down as they ran up the hill and Sirius thought he was going to die from the pain in his lungs. Every breath was a struggle and his thighs burned fiercely. It seemed like an age before they reached the battered, boarded-up little house. It looked even more scary up close. Older, emptier, darker.

The door looked rusted into its frame, but when Remus panted out "_Alohamora_", the lock clicked and it opened with a bang as he kicked it.

"Get in," Remus panted and James and Sirius hurried to follow him. Remus shut the door behind them and they were plunged into darkness.

"Merlin and Mordred," James whispered. It sounded like a prayer.

There was a soft thump and a whispered "_lumos" _from Remus's direction and the room was lit with the dim glow of his wand. Peter lay at his feet and Remus was pale and sweating, clutching his bleeding side. "Peter's alive. Just unconscious, I think."

"Merlin, Merlin, we're in such trouble," James moaned.

"We're alive aren't we?" Remus snapped, glaring at James. "Just give me a moment to rest." He sagged to his knees, face pale.

"God, Rem," Sirius whispered, falling to his knees beside him and trying to pry his bloody hand away to look. "Please don't die. Pleaseplease."

Remus managed a weak smile as he tightened his hold on his side. "I'm won't. I've had worse."

"When?" Sirius demanded, frightened and sickened by the amount of blood he could now see darkening Remus's faded school robes.

"No time." Remus hauled himself to his feet and reached for Peter again. "We have to get back."

"We _can't_," James pointed out. "There's evil dark wizards out there in case you hadn't noticed."

"Not there. Secret passage."

"_What?_"

"No time."

Remus took his hand away from his side and began lifting Peter again.

"Don't be stupid." James slapped his hands away. "You're hurt. Sirius and I'll get him."

"But – "

"Come on, where's this secret passage?"

Remus allowed James and Sirius to haul Peter up between them. "Follow me."

They staggered after him further into the battered house until they came to a hall with a staircase leading up to a top floor. All around them was a strong, metallic smell, with overtones of something harsh and musky and animalistic. For some reason, it made Sirius's heart hammer against his ribcage. As he and James hauled Peter further down the hall, he staggered a little, reaching out his hand to steady himself against the wall. It came into contact with something sticky. He jerked it away quickly and stared in the dim light of Remus's wand.

Someone else had reached out a hand to steady themselves here. It was a clear print; a print made in old, dry blood, and the hand that had made it was small. A child's hand.

"Sirius, come on!"

Sirius swung round to stare at Remus who was sending apprehensive glances up the shadowy staircase. He reached out a hand to tug on Sirius's sleeve and this close, Sirius could smell the blood on him. It was hot and metallic and Sirius suddenly realised what it was that the stairway smelled of. Remus's hand on his sleeve was small and Sirius found his gaze drawn back to the print. Remus followed his eyes.

"Sirius, please…" and his voice was broken.

"Come on, lads," James said, "Pete's a brilliant mate, but he's no bag of feathers."

Sirius stumbled into a walk again, his mind plagued with images of blood and moonshadows and little, scarred hands. What did it all mean?

Remus led them through a door at the base of the stairs and down a tunnel so long Sirius thought it would never end. Peter seemed to be getting heavier and heavier.

"Wait here a second," Remus said, as they could at last make out daylight filtering in from the end of the tunnel. He made his way forward and leaned out a little way, snaking one of his arms out to jab at something outside. A swishing noise that Sirius hadn't even been aware of until this moment suddenly stopped.

"Okay, c-come on."

Remus crawled out of the tunnel and Sirius and James hurried to follow him, dragging Peter. When they emerged and realised where they were, they went even faster.

"Great Godric, it's the Whomping Willow!" James whimpered, staggering away as quickly as possible. The tree began moving again almost as soon as they dragged Peter from reach. "What the hell did you do to it?"

"No time." Remus said. "We need to get to the Hospital Wing quickly. I think I'm g-going to pass out."

"Come on then," Sirius said, eyeing him with worry.

Remus lead them towards the school, then through a small, almost invisible door that turned out to lead them directly to the corridor outside the hospital wing.

More questions, more questions. Sirius's mind seemed to be whirring and sluggish at the same time.

They managed to make it into the Hospital Wing before Remus collapsed.

"There you are! Oh thank Merlin!" And then Madame Pomfrey was there and Sirius released Peter's limp form with relief and collapsed to the floor himself, the tears coming at last.


	18. Sirius the Impertinent

**Disclaimer: Not mine. The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**Warning: Will be slash later on (muuuuuch later on).**

**Well, this very quick update is a reward for all those people who wrote me such lovely reviews for the last chapter. I hope you enjoy it. By the way, Remus' reaction to their prank (You'll see later how important it is) wasn't my idea, it was one of my reviewer's. I have tried and tried to remember whose it was so I could credit them, and I couldn't. Whoever you are, let me know and I will write your name in big happy capital letters on the next chapter. It was inspired. **

**Anyway, hope you enjoy. Ad lib with my usual pathetic begging for reviews. I live for reviews – don't deprive me of them (picture puppy dog eyes here). Oh, and I have replied to all your reviews, but I think the alerts thing is playing up since I'm not getting any so sorry if you haven't got them. **

* * *

**REMUS:**

_Why when we do our darkest deeds  
Do we tell?  
They burn in our brains  
Become a living hell  
'Cause everyone tells  
Everyone tells…_

_Got a secret  
Can you keep it?  
Swear this one you'll save  
Better lock it, in your pocket  
Taking this one to the grave  
If I show you then I know you  
Won't tell what I said  
Cause two can keep a secret  
If one of them is dead._

_(From 'Secret' by The Pierces)_

When Remus woke the next day, it was too a violent, flaming ache throughout his body and the familiar sharp burn of pain that he knew came from a deep gash in his side. What had happened last night that made the wolf so angry?

The smell of the potions that had been applied to his wounds was potent to his still-heightened senses. It used to make him ill in first year, but now it comforted him with the knowledge that someone was taking care of him. The sound of Madame Pomfrey moving around beside him comforted him as well.

"Rough moon," he croaked without opening his eyes. His throat was very dry and his voice sounded harsh and scratchy.

"Ralph who?" A familiar voice asked. "Are you awake, Rem? Or is that sleep talking?"

Remus thought his heart had stopped right then. What the hell was going on? What was Sirius doing in his private room in the hospital wing? Did they know? Were they going to report him?

And then it slowly began coming back to him, and he felt himself tensing as the memories washed over him. The men in black robes, Peter unconscious, fighting, the shrieking shack… Sirius's expression as he looked from Remus to the bloody handprint on the wall. In that one moment Remus had felt his whole world beginning to crack and break around him. He knew it wouldn't be long before they discovered what he was and he ended up either executed or on a reservation.

Remus also knew that the most sensible thing would be for him to immediately stop being friends with the other boys, but for some reason he couldn't get his head around that notion. He knew that if he could have gone back in time to change his past so he had not become their friends and his secret remained safe, or have it this way – on the brink of discovery – he would turn his back on the offer as soon as he heard it. He had friends now and that was something … precious. And irreplaceable. Even if it had only been for a very short time.

"Remus? You awake, mate?" Sirius sounded very worried. He was talking in that soft, gentle tone that made aching warmth rise and fill Remus's chest.

"He's awake?" asked James's voice, as his footsteps came nearer.

How had he not noticed they were both in here? Damn potions with their strong sinus-melting smells. He debated whether to keep pretending to be asleep or to open his eyes. It seemed to be such an effort to do that simple thing, but the worry in their voices made him determined. With an effort, he forced them open.

Two fuzzy blurs leant over him and it was a few seconds before they came into focus.

"Oh thank God!" Sirius said, his face lighting up. Remus felt a hand squeeze his wrist. He struggled to turn his head. Sirius sat on a chair beside his bed – one of those typical hospital chairs that are designed to be uncomfortable. James stood by his side, grinning his pumpkin-grin of relief. Behind them, Remus could see Peter in the bed beside his, peering round to look at him. So he was in the main hospital wing, not his private room at the back.

"Are you feeling okay?" Peter asked. His expression was hopeful, his forehead creased with worry. His chubby face was very pale.

Remus tried to say he was feeling fine, but it emerged as a series of untranslatable croaks that made him cough dryly.

"Here." Sirius held up a glass of water that Remus just managed to focus on. He stared at it longingly but when he tried to move, every muscle in his body screamed in protest.

Sirius wordlessly put the glass down and snaked a hand behind Remus's neck. He gripped him around the shoulders and raised him off the bed a little. Remus couldn't help a pathetic little whimper of pain escape from his throat. James picked up the glass and held it to Remus's lips while Sirius held him up. Remus felt himself blushing. He didn't feel comfortable with them seeing him this weak and vulnerable. It wasn't safe. Every instinct in his body screamed it. But he was desperately thirsty and he clumsily gulped at the water, automatically lapping at the drips that escaped from the side of his mouth and down the glass in a rather canine way. James was not particularly maternal by nature and didn't think to adjust the glass to Remus's slow gulps.

When the glass was empty, Sirius carefully lowered Remus back onto the bed. The door to Madame Pomfrey's office opened at that moment and she hurried out.

"Remus? Are you awake?"

She hustled the two dark-haired boys aside and looked down at him, pressing her hand to his forehead and running her wand up and down his body while murmuring diagnoses spells.

"Why do I feel this bad?" he managed to ask her. His voice was still a croak, but at least it was recognisable now. He knew she understood the real question he was asking. Why did he feel so much worse than normal? Surely he had had worse than this on full moon nights?

"Loss of blood," she said, smoothing back his hair. "Severe loss of blood. I thought for a moment I wouldn't be able to help you. That slashing spell hit one of your arteries and running like you did increased the blood flow out the wound. I have absolutely no idea how you managed to get yourself all the way here from Hogsmeade, silly boy."

"Had to run."

She shook her head and frowned. "I know. The boys told me."

Remus sent a very alarmed look over her shoulder as she bent to inspect the bandage at his waist. If Madame Pomfrey knew how he had flaunted his secret hideout so carelessly he was in even deeper trouble than he thought. James and Sirius both sent him matching looks that clearly said 'we're professional troublemakers. You didn't seriously think we would tell her the truth?' Remus didn't know what lie they could possibly have come up with, but he felt himself relax with relief all the same.

"That why it burned so much?" he asked Madame Pomfrey as she straightened.

"What?"

"When I ran. Everything burned. All my joints, all my muscles."

"You blood vessels were collapsing, Mr. Lupin. There was no blood in them and it caused friction."

Peter made a retching noise from his bed. "Please don't mention the b-word," he begged. "I feel sick enough already. And don't mention the v-word either."

"Blood," James said immediately, looking delighted when Peter went green again.

"Veins," Sirius added.

"Arteries."

"Muscles."

"Tendons."

"Bone marrow."

"Toast."

Sirius opened his mouth, then looked at James. "What?"

"Toast. He eats so much of it, I reckon it must make up a good portion of his body."

Peter had his hand over his mouth as his two so-called friends spoke. He looked very, very ill.

"Don't be so cruel," Remus croaked, just succeeding in raising his head to look at Sirius and James who appeared completely unrepentant. "Poor Peter looks like he's going to puke."

"Are you really?" Sirius asked the chubby boy, his face lighting up.

"You eaten today, Pete?" Remus asked as Madame Pomfrey tutted and glared at the two dark-haired pranksters while she continued to fuss with Remus's bandages.

"S's'ges 'n t'st," Peter mumbled round his hand.

"Sausages and toast?" Remus said, "Good. That'll look brilliant when you projectile vomit all over them. Aim for Sirius's hair."

"Gross!" Sirius and James immediately backed away from projectile vomiting range and Peter looked disappointed.

"Really, boys," Madame Pomfrey said. "Do you have to misbehave in my hospital wing? I have to go and speak to the Headmaster now, so I trust you can be good around my patients for a short while?"

"Of course!" Sirius and James had expressions of such hurt innocence on their faces that even Remus almost believed them. Madame Pomfrey looked unconvinced, but sighed and left the hospital wing with the stern glare.

"Finally!" Sirius said, collapsing back onto his chair. "Scary lady, that one."

"No she's not," Remus said, feeling an instinctive protectiveness for the young woman who tended his wounds so gently every month. "She just cares about her patients."

"You're too nice and trusting of everyone, Remus. One day it's gonna come back and bite you and then you'll be sorry."

"It already did. I already am."

Sirius shot him an odd look. "You what?"

Remus cursed himself. Why did his tongue become so eager to spill his secrets when he was drugged up? His mind – very practiced in the art of convincing lies due to his curse - presented him with a suitable alternative to the truth. "I was too trusting and agreed to go to Hogmeade with you guys. Look what happened." He gestured rather bitterly between Peter and himself. The movement caused a burning similar to that of a very stiff muscle to shoot up his arm.

"More like we promised to take care of you and convinced you to come and you trusted us and then you ended up being the one who beat up the baddies and saved our lives," Sirius avoided Remus's eyes, his voice very soft. "We're really sorry about that, Rem."

_Sorry enough not to ask awkward questions about certain things?_ Remus thought quietly at him. No such luck.

"How did you do that?" Peter demanded suddenly. "You picked me up like I didn't weigh anything. And what you did to those guys in the robes. I may have been half unconscious, but I remember that."

Remus desperately tried to persuade his sluggish, drugged brain to come up with a convincing lie. "It was adrenaline," he tried. "Amazing stuff. I read about some Muggle woman who picked up an entire car that had driven over her child because of adrenaline."

"After beating up three hulking adult men armed with wands and then carrying her rather massive child and running like hell for over a mile while bleeding from a wound that cut into one of her arteries?" James said.

Remus was silent. He felt their eyes on him and tried not to meet them.

"We know there are things you aren't telling us, Remus," James said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "You know we are your friends no matter what and you can tell us anything."

"It was nothing," Remus mumbled, his brain feeling very foggy, "Just adrenaline. 'Mazing stuff."

He flicked his eyes up and met a smoky grey pair. He tried to look away and found he couldn't. Sirius's silence was even more uncharacteristic that James's gentleness.

"You don't have to tell us if you don't want," Sirius said, not looking away. He leant forward and gripped Remus's hand, giving it a little squeeze that made Remus try not to wince. All his joints still hurt – as though they were rusty hinges that needed oiling.

"Yes he does!" Peter said. "That's what friends do!"

"No," Sirius said firmly, not releasing Remus's hand. "Friends are there for each other when they are needed. They don't try and force their friends to tell secrets they don't want to. They don't try and make them feel guilty for saving their lives." He turned his head to look meaningfully at Peter. "Friends do everything to keep each other safe. A friend will carry you and run like hell away from danger when you can't walk any more. Even if he's bleeding himself."

It was a rather cruelly blunt reprimand and Peter blushed in shame. "You're right. Sorry, Remus."

James was staring at Sirius, his mouth a little open. "Okay, who are you and what have to done with Sirius? If you were going to disguise yourself at him you should have remembered that he's never that kind or eloquent."

"Who are you and what have you done with James?" Remus teased, unable to help himself. "I know he doesn't know big words like eloquent, volatile or vocation."

Sirius laughed. "He has you there, mate. Or whoever's stolen your body."

"I'll have you know I know many such big words," James said, putting his nose in the air. "Loads! Like… avocado and impertinent and irrepressible and delinquent and marmalade."

"You only know those because Remus has had to explain them to you so you knew whether to be insulted by a teacher or flattered," Sirius pointed out.

"Except marmalade," Peter put in, grinning, "We'll give you that one."

"I'm still trying to understand the reason for 'the attention span of an avocado,' remark," James mused, "I would think vegetables could be considered to be very patient and attentive, but Professor McGonagall didn't sound like she meant it as a compliment."

"Fruits," Remus corrected, "Not vegetables."

"You should put together a dictionary for us, Remus," Sirius said. "The Marauder's Dictionary for Explaining Long Words Used by the Marauder, Remus Lupin and Various Members of Authority During Punishment Lectures Resulting from Brilliant Pranks."

"I think we might have to think up a snappier name for it then," said James.

"Are you gentlemen still here?" Madame Pomfrey asked, returning and sighing when she spotted Sirius and James. "It's lunch time. Go and get some. I'll allow you to come back for a short while later if you're good."

Grumbling, Sirius and James moved to obey her, but not before Sirius leant forward and murmured in Remus's ear, "friends are allowed to work out other friend's secrets for themselves, though. And we fill find out eventually, Rem."

Then he was gone and Remus was left feeling rather desperate, his good mood fading rapidly.

* * *

"So did we get punishment for sneaking into Hogsmeade?" Remus asked James the next day when the other boy came to visit him in the hospital wing after lessons. Peter had been released but was in bed in the dorm, still recovering. Sirius was currently held up by Professor Vector who was giving him a lecture on the downsides of locking three fourth year Slytherin boys in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and sticking a notice on the door reading 'Snake pit – do not enter: full of snakes.'

"Not bad punishment," James said. "I think they thought that fighting Death Eaters – that's what they call themselves by the way – and getting _crucio_d and sliced up and running away was probably punishment enough. Sirius and I got a mean lecture though. You should have heard it! And Dumbledore did disappointed face at us. I hate disappointed face. Why couldn't he have made non-understandable remarks about my attention span and avocados like any of the other professors?"

"Dunno," Remus smiled. "Maybe he realises they go right over your head."

"I bet he does. Sneaky old git."

Remus started to laugh, then stopped when it caused a sharp pain to shoot up his side. He felt much better than he had the previous day, but still quite creaky. James looked at him in concern and reached out to touch his shoulder. "You okay, Remus? You're really not looking so good. I was sort of hoping you would have special fast-healing powers to go with all the rest of your secrets."

"I wish!" Remus said, thinking about how much that would help him at full moons.

"Well, you just seemed to be coping really well for someone with a giant gash out their side. I figured you might."

Remus didn't want to say it was because he was used to pain. Lots of pain. Every month.

"I don't."

"Well, what do you have? I know you're really strong and fast. And you know long words. What else?"

Remus couldn't help smiling inwardly at the thought that being a werewolf meant you automatically knew long words, but most of him was occupied with panicking about where this interrogation was going.

"James, please…"

"You don't have to tell me anything. I just wondered. And Sirius does too. You know he's determined to work you out. And he will in the end."

Remus looked down at his bed covers, plucking at a stray thread with his fingers. "He won't," he mumbled, hoping to hell it was true. "Sirius isn't great on insight. He doesn't notice things."

"What things?"

Remus didn't answer, shifting uncomfortably.

"You're an exception you know," James said eventually when it became clear Remus wasn't going to say anything.

"To what?"

"To Sirius's … what's the word? Not- noticing?"

"Obliviousness," Remus suggested miserably.

"Yeah, that. He does notice you. It's like… most people in the world around him rush in and out of his focus all the time without him really noticing. Even me and Peter sometimes. Not all the time. But sometimes. But you're always in focus for him. He notices everything about you. Even when we weren't friends." James paused for a moment, his eyes flicking over Remus's torso that was dressed in long cotton hospital pyjamas. "He noticed your scars."

"They're bloody hard to miss," Remus said bitterly.

"No they aren't. You made sure of that. I've only seen a bit of your arm when you fainted that time by the coaches. Are they all over, Rem? Or just on your arms? Is your whole body covered in scars?"

Remus felt tears of desperation begin to rise in his eyes. He felt the wolf perk up in interest. _Kill? Hurt? _ It suggested in the back of his mind.

"How did it happen? Who would do that to you?" James asked. "You're so little. I don't know why anyone would do that to you."

Remus tried to draw his breath in quietly, but it jerked into his lungs in a clumsy sob. He was going to die. The Ministry would kill him when they found out. He knew what they did. They whipped a convicted werewolf with silver-tipped whips and then executed them with a silver axe.

"Oh, hey, Remus. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have made you cry." James moved from his chair and sat on Remus's bed putting a clumsy, affectionate arm around Remus's shaking form.

"I'm not c-crying."

It was true. There were no tears, but he was trembling violently.

"Whatever you're afraid of, we'll help you," James said to him. "Even if we don't know everything about why. We're the Marauders now. We stick together no matter what."

"You say that now…"

"We say that forever." It was Sirius's voice that said that. Remus and James looked up to see him standing a little way from his bed, his hands stuck in his pockets.

There was a long moment and Remus's trembling gradually began to ebb. "So how did it go with Vector then?" he asked, trying to force a light note into the conversation.

"I'm not really sure," Sirius said, moving to sit at the end of Remus's bed, while James took his seat again. "What does 'incorrigible' mean?"

Remus felt his lips twitching into a grin. "It means you're bad. Impossible to change or improve."

"Oh. That's alright then," Sirius said cheerfully. "I thought it might mean something horrible."

* * *

_Dear Remus,_

_I cannot believe you went into Hogsmeade when you _knew _there were dangerous people about. I was so worried when I heard from Professor McGonagall about what had happened to you. I thought you had more sense than that. _

_I am glad that you're feeling better, though. I suppose the downside to having friends like yours is that you're bound to get led into danger sooner or later. Just please make it later. For my sake. I would hate for you to die, Remus. _

_On a lighter note, here are some chocolate brownies that Angela made. She is dying to meet you, but she says this is the next best thing (women and chocolate, eh?). _

_What are you doing for Christmas? Are you staying at Hogwarts like last year? We thought we might come by and visit you. Is that alright? _

_Yours,_

_Neil Anders_

_PS: All those sausages you're feeding Brutus are making him fat and lazy. The only person he wants to deliver letters to now is you!_

"Neil Anders?" Sirius asked and Remus jumped and scrunched up the letter. "As in Professor Anders?"

Remus scowled and wished he hadn't been sitting next to Sirius that breakfast,

"He's the one who owns Brutus? I bet you only write to him because you like his owl."

"I do not!" Remus protested.

"Deny it all you like, but you just fed the fat git all your sausages," James said, grinning over the table at him.

Brutus hooted happily and snatched one of Peter's sausages. Peter tried to protest and ended up having a choking fit as he inhaled his mouthful of bacon.

Remus tried to look angry and failed. He was too happy. It was only a week until the Christmas holidays started, they planned to administer the now-completed potion in two days, and he was going to spend Christmas with his friends.

"Wednesday is going to be so fun," Sirius said, belching happily and lounging back on the bench beside Remus. "I can't wait to see everyone's faces as they start growing feathers and scales and things."

"You're disgusting, Black," Lily Evans said as she got up from the table.

"What?" Sirius asked defensively.

"Didn't your parents teach you any table manners?" She stomped off.

"One innocent burp and her knickers are in such a twist she's going to stop blood-flow to her legs."

"Don't be rude, Sirius," James said looking after Lily.

Sirius's eyes lit up. "Ooh! Defending your future wife? I told you so!"

James flushed scarlet. "What? No! Don't be gross Sirius! That's not what I meant and you know it."

Remus and Peter sniggered and James flushed even brighter. "Gits!"

"It is going to be a good Christmas prank though," Sirius said. "As good as that one someone played last year. Better."

"Not better," James protested. "That one was awesome."

"Thanks," Remus said, looking down modestly. There was a long silence as the others looked at him with their mouths hanging open.

"Merlin, Rem. Are you serious?"

"Nope. That would be you. We've been through this identity crises thing."

"No really," James put in. "You did that thing with the ice?"

"Yup."

"I don't believe you. That was like a sixth-year spell."

Remus sighed and waved his wand in the direction of the Great Hall's door, muttering a spell. Evan Rosier was just walking though and ended up tilting for one very comical moment, his arms making spirals in the air, then landing flat on his back, his legs in the air and his robes obscuring his face as his feet slipped on the unexpected ice.

While everyone in the hall broke out in laughter, Remus quickly muttered the counter-spell. By the time Slughorn arrived to aid his furious student, the floor was back to being stone again.

"It was _ice_, I tell you! _Ice_!" Rosier was protesting loudly as he was led, limping, from the hall.

Remus turned back to grin smugly at the other Marauders. "Remus, you are my hero!" Sirius said, pulling him into a headlock and mussing up his hair.

"Sirius! Let me go!"

Sirius obeyed, still grinning hugely as Remus came up red-faced and breathless from lack of air and glared at him.

"Really, though, mate," Peter said, looking at Remus with awe. "That was just … wow."

Remus basked in their attention. In that moment he was happier than he could ever remember being since those nights before the wolf.

* * *

Very early on Wednesday morning, the four Marauders, squashed together under James's invisibility cloak and headed for the kitchens. The house elves looked up in bemusement when the portrait door swung open and nobody was there. They peered round the frame, chatting among themselves, then closed it again and went back to preparing breakfast.

The food and drink were set out on tables ready to be transported to the Great Hall. They snuck over and James slid his hand out from under the cloak and poured the potion into all the jugs of pumpkin juice meant for the four houses.

"Some people will drink tea or coffee instead," Remus hissed as quietly as he could.

"Good point," James said, and added it to the tea and coffee as well. His hand hovered over the drinks meant for the staff table.

"Don't you _dare_," Remus said, and James and Sirius rolled their eyes. James withdrew his hand. "Fine," he said sulkily, "But I would give anything to see the very round snake that Slughorn would turn into."

They crept out again with the house elves none the wiser.

They hung around in the library until breakfast time, not wanting it to look odd that they had all (even Sirius and Peter who were notorious for being the complete opposite of 'morning people') turned up early for breakfast. At last, Sirius leapt to his feet. "That's it! Time to enjoy the show."

They hurried down to breakfast and all sat at the Gryffindor table, trying not to grin too much as they dished up breakfast. Remus was so distracted, his hand bumped the silver plate with the bacon on it. He hissed and withdrew it quickly, rubbing the burn.

"Remus? Let me see."

Before he could protest, Sirius had grabbed his hand and raised it towards his face. "That's quite a bad burn, Rem. Don't touch the plates, lads. They're hot."

Remus was immensely relieved that they avoided touching the plates after that. He didn't know how he would have explained how the barely warm plate had caused his skin to blister.

The potion took a few minutes to work, but work it did. The first shrieks came from the Ravenclaw table which wasn't a surprise. They always came down early and studiously on week days so they were ready in plenty of time for lessons.

The Marauders watched with great delight as around the table, arms sprouted black feathers and faces moulded to form beaks instead of mouths, turning their shrieks into something more closely resembling croaks. Then more cries began erupting around the hall. The Slytherins grew scales, and their arms and hair disappeared. Their tongues became thin and forked. The Hufflepuffs sprouted black and white fur on their faces and little tufted ears on their heads. Their arms became short and stubby.

There was chaos up close as well. The Gryffindors ears also moved up and into two new rounded golden ones on top of their heads. They sprouted long tufted tails, their hair – especially the boys' – grew longer and down their backs. Their fingers sprouted claws instead of nails.

The Marauders were roaring with laughter, particularly when some of the Slytherins tried to talk and could only hiss.

"We'd better drink up guys, before someone notices us," James said, holding up his glass.

"Yeah. Cheers!" Sirius said.

"Cheers!" the others echoed, clinking their glasses together.

Remus tried not to think of the beetle-eyes that had gone into the potion as he drank. Or any of the other ingredients, really. It took a few minutes for the potion to take effect, then he felt an odd tickling sensation all over his skin. It felt different to his werewolf transformation. It didn't hurt at all. He glanced down and saw his hands sprouting claws.

And that was when he began panicking. The hands were always the first things to change. What if this potion worked differently on werewolves? What if it triggered his real transformation? When he felt the shifting of his flesh around his body, his breathing quickened. He had to get out of here! What if he killed someone? And they would all know! Merlin! They would all know!

He stumbled to his feet, just as he felt fur spreading down his back. It was a familiar sensation and that was when he started to scream.

"Rem? Good God! Remus, what's wrong!"

Remus could barely hear Sirius over the sound of not only his own screams, but the screams of lots of other people in the hall. He tried to back away from his friends, his horrible, changing, clawed hands out in front of him. He knew he was getting hysterical with fear, but he couldn't stop the screams from emerging. The last time he had felt this scared was when a werewolf's teeth had torn into his flesh.

"What's wrong with him? Remus? _Remus!_" Suddenly James and Sirius and Peter were there, crowding round him, trying to touch him. He turned and stumbled away from the table and ran towards the doors. He ran out and took off in the direction of the Whomping Willow. He had to get somewhere safe, he _had _to.

He was faster than the others and soon outstripped them, though they chased after him as fast as they could run. He burst outside and ran towards the tree. When he reached it, he blindly ran towards the tunnel, dodging the swaying branches and blindly hammering at the knot in the trunk. The branches froze and he leapt down the tunnel, running, terrified towards the Shrieking Shack, up the stairs and into his room where he leapt to the bed cowering there, no longer having the breath to scream, but sobbing hysterically.

He didn't know how long he lay there. His body was no longer tingling with the change, but he couldn't stop the great whoops and whooshes of breath that still came from him. He felt sick with fear and horror. He buried his face in the torn and battered pillow and wept.

He wasn't even aware of the others entering the room until he felt a hand on his back.

"Oh Merlin, oh Merlin," Peter was whimpering. "What is this place. There's _blood _on the walls!"

"Rem? Rem? Come, this is a bad place," Sirius was trying to pull him up. "There's _things _here! There's blood, Remus! What's wrong? _Tell me! _What's wrong!"

And then his own voice was sobbing out "I th-th-thought I was t-t-transf-f-forming!" he hiccoughed. "It w-wasn't even the f-f-full moon and I thought I w-w-w-was t-transforming!"


	19. Blood on the Walls of a Werewolf's Shack

**Disclaimer: Not mine. The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**Warning: Will be slash later on (muuuuuch later on).**

**Well, here is another chapter up really quickly because I felt very guilty about the cliffy at the end of the last one ;). It's a bit shorter that the last two, though. **

**I never heard from anyone claiming the idea I used last chapter, so I still can't give credit. Does no one remember writing to me 'Why doesn't Remus react badly to the prank and think he's really transforming?' No? Oh well. Hope you enjoy this. **

**SIRIUS:**

_"Secrets are made to be found out with time."_

_(Charles Sanford)_

Sirius was not entirely sure when it had all gone wrong. The prank had been working brilliantly: Students were panicking, teachers were confused and yelling for order, the Slytherins looked hilarious with no arms and no hair and couldn't even voice their outrage except by hissing.

Then they'd had to drink their share to avoid discovery. And that was when things started to change. Sirius had gulped down his spiked pumpkin juice and watched in great amusement as his body began to change. James's already-wild hair was growing longer and wilder and spreading down his back, and Sirius pointed and sniggered until James's spotted him as well and almost wet himself laughing.

Then Sirius had then turned round to look for Remus and saw that the smaller boy was having a completely different reaction. He was staring down at his changing hands with an expression of utter horror and loathing. His breath was quickening and even in the din of panicking students, Sirius could hear it whooshing in and out of Remus's thin chest. The tawny-haired boy was clearly hyperventilating and as Sirius took a step forward, Remus raised one small hand his neck where hair was beginning to sprout down his neck and began screaming.

It was the most terrible sound Sirius had ever heard. It wasn't like the generalised panicked screams of the other students - who knew in the backs of their minds that the teachers would turn them back to normal. This was a scream of horror and hate and deep, deep unutterable anguish.

Sirius felt something inside him seem to tear apart at the sound. Without thinking he reached out towards Remus, desperate to hold him, to stop that scream that went on and on.

"Rem? Remus. Good God! Remus, what's wrong!" Sirius tried to take hold of Remus's shoulders, but the boy jerked away as though Sirius's hands were poisoned.

He started to back away and suddenly James and Peter were there too, standing beside Sirius and reaching out as well "What's wrong with him? Remus? _Remus!_"

And then Remus was struggling away from them. He turned and sprinted towards the door, holding out his clawed hands in front of him as though they were a potion that was about to explode. The other three exchanged quick glances, then took off after him.

Sirius realised after a while that they were never going to catch the smaller boy up. He was deceptively fast as well as deceptively strong. They ran as fast as they could after his dwindling shape, bursting outside and following him in the direction of the Whomping Willow.

They were still much too far away to do anything when Remus dived into the wildly whipping branches, dodging them with inhuman speed and hammering at a knot on the trunk.

"Remus! Stop!" Sirius tried to call, though he hardly made a noise at all, he was so out of breath. Remus disappeared down the secret passageways hidden under the tree and almost as soon as he was out of sight, the branches began moving again.

"We have to poke the knot on the trunk," James panted, leaning forward with his hands on his knees to try and catch his breath. "Find a long stick."

The three of them began a desperate search and after a short while, Peter let out a triumphant shout and waved a long stick in the air.

"Quickly, Damn it!" Sirius snapped at him. Why was he celebrating when Remus was in there doing Merlin only knew what to himself? All he could think of was that small, bloody handprint on the wall, and the sight of Remus slicing his palm on the night of the moon shadows.

Peter began to clumsily poke at the trunk with his stick, and it was more through luck than any skill at aiming that he finally managed to jab the knot. The branches froze and the three of them dove down the tunnel and into the darkness.

They began to run again, fumbling for their wands and casting _lumos _as they did so. Three bobbing lights chased the shadows ahead of them as they sprinted towards the Shrieking Shack. Sirius remembered the tunnel feeling a very long before, when they had been carrying Peter, but now it felt as though it went on forever.

After a time that seemed like forever, they burst out of the door that led to the shack and found themselves in the same hall as before. The metallic smell of blood and that same musky animalistic scent was like a barrage against Sirius's nostrils. He glanced around wildly for a second, before his eyes fell on that small, dry blood-print on the wall and he jerked his head towards the stairs.

"Up there!"

"How do you know?" James demanded, staring round apprehensively.

"I just do."

He started up the stairs, slowing as the smell grew stronger and eventually entered the room at a frightened creep. He didn't know what scared him so much, only that everything in him screamed for him to RUNRUNRUN!!

When Sirius entered the little room he knew why. It was like a scene from anyone's worst nightmare. It looked like the room had once been a bedroom – the old battered bed in the middle of the room made that clear – but it no longer resembled one in truth. Every piece of furniture and all the walls were splattered with what could only be blood and great chunks were slashed and gouged out of every surface. A spindly chair lay in fragmented pieces on the blood-splattered floorboards near the cupboard, and it looked like a great animal had chewed vicious bites out of the cupboard door.

Sirius looked around wildly for Remus, his heart hammering in fear. Then he spotted the small, curled up shape on the bed, shaking so violently he made the whole thing tremble. Odd little whimpers were coming from his mouth that was muffled by the pillow.

Sirius crept forward and put a hand as gently as he could between the two thin shoulder blades. Remus froze immediately. He was as tense as an animal - ready to fight or flee.

"Oh Merlin, oh Merlin," Peter was whimpering. "What is this place? There's _blood _on the walls!"

"Rem? Remus? Come, this is a bad place." Sirius put his hands under the boy's armpits and tried to lift him. "There's _things _here. There's blood! What's wrong? _Tell me!_"

For a long moment, Remus remained frozen and resisting, then suddenly his little body seemed to collapse in on itself, as though it had been fighting for a long, long time and had finally decided it could go on no longer. He turned his head away from the pillow so his face was exposed and a small, broken voice sobbed out, "I th-th-thought I was t-t-transf-f-forming! It w-wasn't even the f-f-full moon and I thought I w-w-w-was t-transforming!"

It was Sirius's turn to freeze as his mind struggled to make sense of the words. Transforming? Full moon?

Something in him went icy cold and he thought for a moment that his heart had actually stopped. He belonged to an old pureblood family who were up to their elbows in the dark arts. He had been taught about dark creatures ever since he could understand words.

"Werewolf."

Sirius knew it was him who had said the word. It didn't sound accusing. It didn't sound welcoming. It didn't sound like his voice at all. It sounded like a cold fact. As though he had said 'everyone has to die eventually' or 'there will always be hunger in the world.' It wasn't a happy fact, it was just a fact and it was so huge that Sirius couldn't get his head around it. He felt absolutely nothing because he was utterly frozen and his brain refused to register this new discovery.

He was dimly aware that Remus had stopped breathing altogether. His wide, horrified eyes were staring at Sirius as though he were the Grim itself. One still-clawed hand was pressed over his mouth so hard that he cut into his own pale cheek and drew blood.

Sirius still felt nothing. He couldn't move a muscle. Inside his head, _facts_ were falling into place with great clangs – each one like an iron door closing forever.

_CLANG!_ The room was not torn apart by howling ghosts or horrible monsters, but by little Remus with his big eyes and delicate, slender hands.

_CLANG! _Remus was a werewolf.

_CLANG!_ The blood on the wall was Remus's- coming from giant gashes he tore into himself when transformed leaving terrible, permanent scars.

_CLANG!_ Remus was a werewolf.

_CLANG!_ Remus didn't go home every month. He came here. All alone. He changed and the wolf inside him ripped him to shreds.

_CLANG!_ Remus was a werewolf.

Sirius was dimly aware of Remus reaching out and clinging to his arm. He was scream-sobbing "_I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!_" and blood and tears ran down his cheeks. Sirius wished he could move, but every part of his brain was taken up with the iron-door facts.

_CLANG!_ That was why Remus was so strong and why he could fight to well.

_CLANG!_ Remus was a werewolf.

_CLANG!_ That was why they could never creep up on him without his knowledge.

_CLANG!_ Remus was a werewolf.

He was again vaguely aware of Remus dropping his arm and stumbling off the bed, his wand raised.

"_Obliv…bliv…oblivi_…" Then he sagged and his hand dropped. "I can't do it. I can't, I can't…"

James and Peter appeared to be as frozen as Sirius was, and neither of them stopped Remus as he turned and hurtled out the door.

_CLANG!_ That was what Professor McGonagall had meant by 'an accident when he was younger.' An accident that claimed – killed? – his mother, and left him permanently scarred and cursed.

_CLANG!_ Remus was a werewolf.

_CLANG!_ That was what burnt him today – the silver plate.

For some reason, that fact made Sirius's unresponsive body twitch once. Something was approaching at the edge of his mind. It felt big and blackish-red.

_CLANG!_ Silver burnt Remus because Remus was a werewolf. Remus's father at the station had pulled what Sirius had first thought was a coin from his pocket and pressed it to Remus's little arm and it burnt him because Remus was a werewolf. It _had_ been a coin – a silver sickle.

_CLANG! _There was a plain brown package on the end of Remus's bed at Christmas. A present from his father. Remus tipped it out and a silver spoon fell onto his bed.

The thing was almost upon him now. It was like a cloud or a tidal wave and it was dark, dark red verging on black, like Remus's blood cupped in his hand as he wished on moon shadows.

_CLANG!_ Remus in the carriage at the beginning of the year, sickly, weak and his whole body riddled with round burns.

And then it was upon him and it he knew what it was now. It was anger. No, more than that. It was FURY.

"Sirius?"

Sirius turned his head very slowly in James's direction. His friend was slumped to his knees, his eyes staring fixedly at the floor. Peter was beside him, staring too, his mouth opening and shutting, but no sound was coming out.

There were footprints on the floor. Some were made by large, dog-like paws, pacing up and down, but the ones James and Peter were staring at were made by very small human feet, covered in blood.

"Remus is a werewolf," James said, as though uncertain on how to react.

And then the red-black anger burst out of Sirius. "_I'll KILL him, I swear to Merlin, I'll KILL him!_" he slammed his hands down on the battered headboard of the bed and James and Peter stared at him in shock.

"Sirius?" James said, actually backing away from him in fear. "Remus has never done anything to us. I know he's a werewolf, but maybe we should ...you know...talk to him…"

Sirius stared at him in dull amazement through his fizzing anger. "Not Remus!" he said. "Never _Remus. _ I'm going to _kill _his disgusting, God-forsaken, _worm _of a father!"

James stared at him with his mouth hanging open. "Why?"

"He _burned _him! He _burned _Remus with silver. He sent him a _silver bloody spoon_ for Christmas!"

James eyes grew even wider. Sirius was only vaguely aware of his limbs breaking out in tingling pins and needles as the potion wore off and his body began to return to normal.

"I'll help you," Peter said tentatively from where he crouched beside James, looking ridiculous as his hair shrunk back into his chubby head.

"What?"

"I'll help you kill him."

"Me too," James said, his eyes going from wide to blazing.

Oddly, the sight of their anger seemed to calm Sirius's down to a smouldering heat in his chest.

"No, not yet. Let's go find Remus first. He ran off."

Peter looked around the room in something like dawning horror, taking in the blood-splatters and slashed furniture. "Remus did all this?"

"The _wolf _inside Remus did all this," James said grimly. "He couldn't help it. My dad was telling me about werewolves once. They lose all their human sanity and mind when they transform. That's why he must come here. So he doesn't hurt anyone. _That's _why he was so bloody scared when he thought he was transforming in the Great Hall."

"Let's go find him," Sirius said.

They made their way back to the school, slipping in though the hidden door that led to the corridor outside the hospital wing. The last of the students suffering from the potion changes were being shoed back to their common rooms by Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall.

McGonagall spotted them first and stormed over. "_What _have you done?" she demanded furiously, glaring at the three of them.

Sirius stared at her in genuine confusion for a long moment. The prank now seemed so long ago it seemed to have slipped from his mind entirely for a moment. "What?"

"Are _you _responsible for all of this?"

She looked so utterly furious that Sirius knew that admitting to doing the prank right now would be a one-way ticket out of Hogwarts.

"What?" he said again. "No! We're looking for Remus! He ran off somewhere."

This only seemed to make her even more angry. Her mouth pressed into the thinnest, tightest line and the three of them actually took a step back. "He went _home_!" she snapped. "Came running in here like all the hounds of hell were after him and demanded to go home for Christmas. He flooed out of the Hospital Wing a few minutes ago. Didn't you know?"

Sirius was so horrified he couldn't even speak. He could only stand frozen for the second time that evening staring at her as though she might suddenly burst out laughing and say, "Had you going there!"

Eventually it was James's strangled voice that spoke. "And you let him _go_?"

"We've _been _through this, Mr. Potter. We can't do anything to stop him if he wants to go. Now please explain to me what is going on." She gestured them into the hospital wing and the three of them sat on a bed in a line facing her.

And oddly, it was Peter who began speaking. The little marauder may not have been brilliant at school or inspirational when it came to thinking up original pranks, but he was, Sirius had to admit, awesome when it came to making up lies. They all knew they couldn't let McGonagall know they knew about Remus's secret.

"We were in the hall and started to change," Peter said meekly. "It felt really weird and when we realised what was going on we thought it was quite funny. We were prepared to laugh with everyone and ..you know… go up and shake the hand of whoever thought up the prank. Then Remus started going all weird. He was staring at his hands changing and when his hair started to grow down his back he started screaming and screaming. He turned and ran away, and we haven't been able to find him. We've looked everywhere and we were really worried."

Professor McGonagall was staring at them and Sirius actually saw belief in her eyes as well as dawning horror as she realised what must have upset Remus so much. Peter had mixed just the right amount of truth and lies.

"Please get him back, Professor," Sirius said, and was rather horrified to hear his own voice so pleading and desperate. "You don't know what his father does to him."

"Nor do you, Mr. Black."

Sirius opened his mouth and then closed it again when he realised he couldn't admit to knowing about Remus's silver burns.

"We have to get him back," James said. "You _know _his father hurts him!"

"There are factors you aren't aware of," Professor McGonagall said grimly. "We can't just go to the Ministry and tell them our suspicions."

And suddenly Sirius realised _why_. Remus was a werewolf. His scars – especially the bite scar would be very distinctive. As soon as the ministry knew what he was, he would not only be punished for breaking the rules and getting an education at Hogwarts, but they would always rule in favour of whatever his father felt 'necessary' to do to control his werewolf son. They thought that all werewolves were vicious animal-like creatures with no humanity.

_You did too_, a voice in his head said. _You thought that too until you knew Remus was one. Had it been anyone but Remus or James or Peter would you have acted any differently?_

So the Ministry weren't going to be able to help. Sirius's mind raced and arrived at a new idea so suddenly he almost jumped.

"Let's go, guys," he said to Peter and James, standing up and moving past Professor McGonagall.

"Where are you going?" she demanded.

"To write Remus a letter begging him to come back," Sirius said.

Her face softened. "Please do."

The others followed him out and hurried down the corridor after him in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

"I know you've got an idea, Sirius Black," James said, looking at him pointedly as they arrived and climbed in the portrait hole. "What is it?"

"I _am _going to write to Remus," Sirius said. "I want to tell him we don't care that he's a werewolf. I wish I had said it straight away, but I just seemed all frozen up and I couldn't move."

James sighed and nodded. "Me too."

"And me," Peter said.

"Then, I'm going to write to Professor Anders," Sirius said.

"Anders?" James asked in confusion. "Why?"

They arrived at their dorm and Sirius went over to his trunk, trying to ignore the absence of Remus's from the end of his bed. He began pulling out parchment and quills.

"He's an Auror. He likes Remus. He knows he's a werewolf _and _he suspects he's being abused. He has contacts with the Ministry and big fighting people who could beat up Remus's dad to rescue him. And if all else fails, maybe he can persuade Remus to come back here on his own for Christmas."

James and Peter thought it over as Sirius began the letter to Remus.

"It's a good idea, mate," James said eventually. "But we must tell the owl we're sending to Remus to _only _deliver to him. We don't want his Dad getting hold of the letter."

* * *

_Dear Professor Anders,_

_You will most likely remember us from last year (we're hard to forget) or from Remus. We have some really bad news about Remus. We pulled this prank where we spiked everyone's juice with potion to change them into bits of their house animal. It went fine at first, but then Remus started panicking and screaming. He ran to the Shrieking Shack and we followed him. _

_He was scared he was transforming. We know he's a werewolf now, but we were so shocked that we didn't get a chance to tell him we didn't mind and he ran away and when we got back to school he had gone home. _

_You have to help us rescue him, Professor. His father burns him with SILVER. He sent him a silver spoon last Christmas as a present and Sirius saw him burning him with a sickle on the station. We don't know what else to do. We've sent a letter to Remus to tell him we don't mind, but we don't know if he'll get it. We told the owl not to give it to his father. _

_Please help us. We know you like Remus and he likes you too. And he always saves his sausages for your owl. _

_Please,_

_Sirius Black, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. _

* * *

_Dear Remus,_

_We're so sorry about what happened today. You should have said if you didn't want to take the potion, even if you didn't want to tell us why. We would have thought of something. _

_Please believe us when we say we don't care that you're a werewolf, and that we promise never to tell anyone. You're still the same clever, funny, brilliant prank-pulling Marauder you always were. We're sorry we didn't tell you at the shack. We were just so shocked. _

_Please, please come back to school. We're so worried about you and we want you here so we can look after you like we promised. Sirius says he will buy you that giant box of Honeydukes chocolate he saw you eyeing up in the shop window if you come back. He says he won't even sneak into Hogsmeade to get it, but will order it like a normal person. _

_Please come back. We told you we would be your friends and you could tell us anything. It wasn't a lie. You can. _

_Your friends, the Marauders,_

_Sirius, James and Peter_


	20. The Burn of a Father's Jealousy

**Disclaimer: Not mine. The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**Warnings: This chapter contains abuse and violence that might upset some readers. Will be slash later on (muuuuuch later on).**

**Another chapter! Quite a bit shorter than the others and very dark as well. Sorry! It's an important part of the story, though, so it had to happen. Please read and review! **

* * *

_Who knows what true loneliness is -- not the conventional word but the naked terror? To the lonely themselves it wears a mask. The most miserable outcast hugs some memory or some illusion. _

_(Joseph Conrad)_

**REMUS:**

As Remus stumbled down the tunnel that led back to the entrance of the Whomping Willow, he actually thought that he might be dying. His vision was blurry, his legs were shaking violently, his stomach churned and he found that no matter how heavy his breaths were, none of them seemed to be reaching his lungs.

All he could see in his mind's eye were the faces of his friends, frozen with horror, revulsion and fear as they realised what he was. When he had heard Sirius utter that one word; "werewolf", he felt as though someone had reached down his throat, grabbed his heart in clawed hands and dragged it up into his throat so he could choke on it.

Remus had tried to tell them how sorry he was, how repulsed by himself he was, how he regretted leading them into thinking he was an ordinary person rather than a vile dark creature. And they had all – even Sirius, onto whose arm he had been clinging – not even moved a muscle. Remus had felt himself being ripped into shreds from the inside as he had stared into those blank, grey eyes.

And he was weak – so very, very weak. He hadn't been able to _obliviate_ them. He hadn't been able to bring himself to tamper with their memories, even though he knew that in failing to do so he was effectively sentencing himself to death.

He wondered briefly how long he would stay conscious under a flaying with silver-tipped whips. Did they keep waking you up if you blacked out? Did they give you a potion to prevent you from doing so? He remembered fainting after some of his father's more vigorous silver-burn punishments in the past and knew he wouldn't last long on his own. Would he even feel the beheading with the silver axe?

He had reached the entrance now, but the thought of the axe cutting into his neck drove him to his knees and he vomited and vomited until he was only bringing up black bile, his stomach muscles aching as he retched.

Remus knew that he was in serious trouble. He knew that it was imperative that he attempted to protect himself from what the Ministry would do to him when they found out what he was. He needed someone who would hide him from them – who felt no loyalty to them. He needed someone who knew what he was, how evil and repulsive he was and would protect him anyway.

_Dad._

The answer came to him in a blurry rush of inspiration while coloured blobs danced in front of his eyes as he tried to stand. His father would hide him. For the love of his beloved wife, his father would hide him, even though he knew everything Remus was.

The new realisation gave him strength and he dragged himself to his feet, reaching out an arm to hammer on the knot of the tree before once more stumbling in the direction of the school.

When he burst through the door that led to the Hospital Wing corridor, he was confronted by the sight of crowds of transfigured students, hissing, squawking, flapping, prowling and all struggling to get into the hospital wing. Some of them were uttering laughs of relief as they effects of the potion began to wear off and fur, feathers and scales began to recede. Remus felt his own body begin to tingle again and clamped down on his instinctive terror as he spotted Professor McGonagall heading towards him. He clung to the doorframe as he watched her approach through blurry eyes.

"Mr. Lupin? Good Godric! What happened to you?"

"I n-need to get h-h-home."

"What?" She blinked. "You can't leave the school until the holidays which are in two days. Besides, you've put your name down to stay here."

"I need to g-g-go home, please." Remus stood up a little straighter as he felt desperation rush through him. The wolf stirred in interest and peered through is eyes. He saw McGonagall take an instinctive step back.

"Please control yourself, Mr. Lupin!"

"Home. Now." The effect of his sickness, horror, fear and the wolf rendered him incapable of forming full sentences and he felt his lips draw back from his teeth in warning.

"But you – "

"Home!"

She sighed, pressing her fingers to her forehead and glancing back at the milling students behind her. Then she turned back to him and he saw her eyes flick over him as she took in his appearance. Whatever it was she saw there made her thin lips get even thinner.

"Very well. I am not able to stop you if you truly want to go. I'll get a house elf to bring your things. You can floo out from the Hospital Wing.

Remus felt a tremor of relief run through him and the wolf backed away a little. "Thank you."

"What is this about, Remus?" she asked gently.

"I just need to get home right now." _Before the others get over their shock and fear and the Ministry come to get me._

He was ushered into the Hospital Wing and towards the fireplace, glad that Madame Pomfrey was too distracted by her many patients to notice him. It was only a few minutes before his trunk appeared beside him, but every second he waited, Remus was sure that the door was going to burst open and Sirius, James and Peter would be standing there. He could see it vividly in his mind's eye. The betrayal on their faces. The fear and hatred. And he couldn't find it in his heart to blame them. He knew what he was. They had every right to be afraid.

"Mr. Lupin?" He looked up to see McGonagall standing in from of him, a pot of floo powder in her hands. "Are you sure you want to do this? Why don't we go to my office for a few minutes and just talk about what's upsetting you?"

He shook his head silently, flicking a nervous glance to the doors of the ward. He held out his hand and she reluctantly poured a little powder into it.

He stepped into the fireplace. "Tembleton Cottage!" he said, and the flames engulfed him.

* * *

When he stumbled out of the living room fire, he looked up to see his father staring at him over a newspaper with an expression of shock, disgust and loathing.

"What the _hell _do you think you're doing here? Get back to that school immediately!"

"Dad, I think someone found out about me. I think they're going to go the Ministry."

Remus felt himself begin to tremble at the expression on his father's face. John Lupin stood up and approached Remus. He stood in front of him, just looking for a few long seconds before his fist came. Remus didn't even try to duck it. He knew better. White pain exploded as the fist connected with his jaw and he felt his body slam back against the fireplace. He wished more than anything that he could give up his strength and speed in favour of super-healing powers or invulnerability. A boot connected with his side, making him curl up in pain.

"Idiot, stupid, disgusting creature!" He father spat as he kicked and kicked. "You only exist to curse me with your presence!" John Lupin reached out and grabbed the silver poker from beside the fire that had been used often enough – though never for poking the fire. Remus felt his school robes shoved aside and howled in pain as he felt the poker pressed to his back.

"Animal! Animal! Revolting, dirty animal!" The poker was lifted and pressed again. Remus was growling, whimpering, howling as the poker burnt into his battered body. "Now I have to protect you and hide you! For her! _For Her!_ Even though the very _sight _of you makes me ill!"

The hatred in his father's voice burned into Remus even more cruelly than the silver poker. He heard it distantly through his pain, and some part of him died slowly. He knew that if his own father could feel that level of loathing for him, there was no chance that people who had no obligation to care for him would feel any different. The tiniest spark hope that he had wrongly judged his friends' reactions burnt out from where he had been nursing it near his heart.

It had all been a farce. He wasn't noble or clever or funny. He wasn't a Marauder or a Gryffindor or even a person. This man knew exactly what he was and Remus felt vaguely gratified that his father didn't hide the fact from him as everyone else tried to do. He gave in and allowed himself to drown in the pain.

* * *

Remus didn't know how long he had been locked in his room in the basement. It could have been days, or weeks or even months. There was no window here and he had no way of knowing. He didn't care either way. He barely had enough strength to pull himself towards the self-emptying chamber pot on the floor beside his bed, or to eat the little amounts of food that appeared magically on his bedside table every once in a while.

The only times his situation changed was when he heard the heavy oak dresser being moved away from where it obscured the entrance to his room in case anyone from the Ministry came to try and find him. If they came, John Lupin would tell them Remus had knocked him out and run away as soon as he had left Hogwarts.

Remus hated the sound of the dresser being moved. It meant another round of rants, beatings and silver burns as punishment for the position he had placed his father in. He no longer had the strength to howl and when he was burnt, could only whine and whimper pitifully. He sometimes dragged himself out of bed and into the corner in an effort to escape the punishment, even though he knew the gesture was useless. He wondered vaguely if silver-tipped whips and beheading would actually have been worse than this. At least it would have been quicker.

A full moon came and went and the wounds he suffered were terrible. He could only be glad his trunk was down here with him and that there were bandages and a few healing potions inside that helped a bit. As he was digging through the trunk he caught a glimpse of three battered boxes of sweets that had seen better days. The Christmas presents from last year that he had finally discovered had come from James and Sirius.

He pulled them out, and for a moment was tempted to tear them apart and gulp down their contents hungrily. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, and instead dragged them up with him onto his bed. They had cared enough when they had given them to him. They had cared enough then.

And that was enough for now.


	21. Finding Remus

**Disclaimer: Not mine. The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**Warnings: This chapter contains abuse that might upset some readers. Will be slash later on.**

**And another chapter for you! Hope you enjoy. This one's a bit longer which will make a lot of you happier, I think. As usual, please read and review! **

* * *

**SIRIUS:**

_Friends are the family we choose for ourselves_.

(Edna Buchanan)

When the school owl returned with Remus' letter unread and untouched, Sirius knew that something was very wrong. Either Remus had ignored the owl completely – unlikely since they had told the owl to peck Remus until he removed the letter and read it - or it had not been able to reach him.

"What do we do now?" James asked, staring at the unopened letter on the Gryffindor table in front of him.

"Go and tell McGonagall," Sirius said. "See if she can do something. Anything from Anders yet?"

James shook his head. "It's been almost two weeks. Why hasn't he answered?"

Sirius shrugged, feeling defeated. "Let's so see McGonagall after breakfast."

"What will she be able to do?" Peter asked. "I thought she said she couldn't do anything?"

"We have to do _something!_" Sirius burst out. "He could be in there in pain and we're all just sitting here! It's Christmas is two days. I wanted to give him my present."

"Relax, Sirius," James said, putting a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "We're going to see her after breakfast, don't worry."

Sirius hadn't felt less hungry in his life. He sat and scowled and fidgeted in his seat until James let out an impatient sigh and stood up. "Let's go then."

Peter let out a muffled noise of protest as he stuffed the rest of his blueberry muffin into his mouth and jumped up to follow them. "I aggen inish gy reakast!" he said around his bulging cheeks.

"Sorry, mate," James said, stepping out of the way of the showering crumbs with practiced ease. "I don't speak chipmunk. Though Snivellus might be able to give me lessons."

Sirius was too worried even to snigger at the remark. Peter gave him a searching glance before swallowing with difficulty and saying "I _said_, I hadn't finished my breakfast."

"Well Sirius was about to explode," James said. "It probably wouldn't have been pretty."

Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, he turned the corner and walked directly into someone larger than him, causing him to rebound off James and into Peter. The three of them found themselves in a painful tangle of limbs while two worried faces peered at them.

"Sorry, lads," said a familiar voice. "I didn't see you coming."

At the sound of the voice, Sirius sat up very quickly, ignoring the fact that his elbow made contact with Peter's nose in the process. "Professor Anders?"

Their ex-professor stood over them, looking as boyish as usual, though his face held strain that hadn't been there the year before. Beside him stood a woman of about the same age – perhaps in her early thirties. She had white-blonde hair set in frothy curls on top of her head and wide dark blue eyes.

"Sirius?" Anders looked very relieved to see them. "I got your letter. I was on assignment and it was waiting for me when I came home. We came here as soon as I got it."

Sirius looked suspiciously at the woman. He didn't want Remus' secrets to be spread to an unknown person. "Who's she?"

"Sirius!" Peter said, shocked at his rudeness.

Neither Anders or the woman looked insulted. Anders smiled a little. "This is my wife, Angela. She knows about Remus."

The three boys scrambled to their feet. "Are you going to go and rescue Remus?" Sirius demanded.

"We're going to do our best. We were just on our way to see Professor McGonagall."

"Us to," said James, taking charge. "You can come along if you like."

"Um…perhaps it would be best if you waited until we'd discussed it?" Anders said, looking a bit thrown.

"What? No!" All three Marauders stared at him as if he were insane.

"He's _our _friend," Peter said stubbornly. "You wouldn't even be here if we hadn't written you that letter."

Anders looked like he was going to protest again, but Angela placed a calming hand on his arm. "Let them come, love. Maybe they can help."

"They're just boys!"

"We are _not_!" Sirius said indignantly. "We're Marauders! And we're going to rescue Remus and we might let you help."

Anders sighed, and Sirius could see him coming to the conclusion that any escape plan they concocted would be a lot safer if it were tempered by adult advice. "Very well. Come with us."

The Marauders smugly followed Anders and Angela down the corridor and in the direction of McGonagall's office.

Professor McGonagall didn't look very surprised to see Anders and his wife turning up at her door. She did frown in question when she spotted Sirius, James and Remus, though.

"Aren't you boys supposed to be at breakfast?"

"We were coming to talk to you about Remus," Sirius said, radiating his best pure-blood-brat confidence. "We said Professor Anders and his wife could come along."

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows at Anders who shrugged a little helplessly.

"What's this about Remus, Mr. Black?"

Sirius glanced at the other Marauders, and James stepped forward, holding up the letter they had send to Remus. "It came back. The letter we sent him. It didn't even reach him. We're worried something has happened to him."

McGonagall sighed and stepped away from the door a little, allowing them to enter, and motioning Anders and Angela towards the seats in front of her desk. She waved her wand and transfigured a piece of parchment into a bench onto which Sirius, James and Peter seated themselves.

"I'm afraid there is nothing I can do," she said, once they were all settled.

"But you haven't done _anything_!" Sirius said, feeling a flash of anger and helpless frustration.

"_Manners _Mr. Black, or I will not include you in this discussion."

Sirius slouched down on the bench and glared at her.

"Contrary to what you seem to believe, Poppy Pomfrey and I went to Mr. Lupin's house a week ago with the excuse that we wanted to check Remus' health as he seemed very upset when he left."

Sirius sat up and stared at her. "And?"

"Was he okay?" Peter asked.

She sighed and put her hand briefly to her forehead. "He wasn't there."

"_WHAT?_" That came from all five of them at once.

"We spoke to his father who told us that Remus came through the floo, knocked him unconscious and ran away. He hasn't seen him since."

There was a very long silence as the rest of them tried to come to terms with this new information.

"He was lying," Sirius said, suddenly sure.

"We can't prove that, Mr. Black."

"If Remus had wanted to run away, he could have left from a Shrieking Shack and into Hogsmeade. Why would he go to all the effort of going home first?"

Professor McGonagall was staring at him with shock on her face. "What? How do you know about that?"

It was Sirius's turn to be confused. "What?"

"The Shrieking Shack."

Sirius felt James stiffen beside him and felt his own heart plummet towards his boots. He was such an _idiot _sometimes. However, he could see there was no going back now. "We didn't know. Not until that night he ran away. He ran to the Shack and we followed him. He was going on about how he was transforming. We worked out that he's a werewolf, but he ran away before we could tell him he didn't care."

"You saw that room he goes into and you didn't care?" Professor Anders asked, his voice catching oddly in his throat.

"Well, we _did _care," James amended. "We cared because we felt sorry for him. His blood was all over the walls. We promised we would look after him, but we can't can we? Not with that. And not with what his Dad does to him either."

Sirius was aware that all three of the adults were watching them with very strange expressions on their faces. Eventually Professor McGonagall spoke up quietly. "He really _is_ lucky to have you three as friends. Not many people can see pass the prejudices of the wizarding world."

"Er…" Peter put up his hand. "I don't _know _the prejudices of the wizarding world. But if you tell me what they are I'm sure I'll see past them."

"That's why we have to _help _him!" Sirius said, ignoring his friend and trying to draw their attention back to the matter at hand. "Because we're his friends."

"What else can we do?" McGonagall asked.

Angela cleared her throat tentatively. Up until now she had not said very much; spending her time closely observing the interaction between the others. "I may have an idea."

She looked rather scared when she was immediately accosted by three Marauders, all of whom crowded round her chair.

"Ooh!" James said with rather savage eagerness, "Are we gonna go his house and blast down the door and tie up his father and torture him until he tells us where Remus really is?"

"Or just kill him in a very painful and messy way and find Remus for ourselves?" Sirius suggested.

"Or torture him for the information and _then _kill him in a very messy way?" Peter added, looking proud when Sirius and James gave him approving nods.

Angela looked rather disturbed and shot a desperate look in her husband's direction.

"Come on boys, stop messing around," Anders said tiredly.

"Messing around?" Sirius asked, turning to look at him. "Who's messing around?"

"My _idea_," Angela said loudly. "Does not have anything to do with messy deaths."

"How about torture?" Sirius asked hopefully.

"Mr. Black, please return to your seat and listen quietly or I really will kick you out of this meeting." McGonagall looked at the three of them with her most terrifying expression and they returned meekly to their bench. "Please continue, Mrs. Anders. And not another word from the three of you unless we give you permission to speak."

"Why don't we get a Ministry warrant to search the house on suspicion of child abuse?" Angela said.

"We can't, love," Anders said. "Remus is an unregistered werewolf. If they find out there will be hell to pay and if he is lucky enough not to get executed, they will definitely _not _rule in his favour over any child abuse case."

"They don't need to find out," Angela said, turning to look at McGonagall. "Anders can come along on the rescue mission as one of the Aurors required for a house search. And he has an Auror friend whose sister is a werewolf as well. They would be willing to be discreet when we go and find him. Then all we need to do is get their testimonies, your testimony as a teacher of the school and a medical report from the school healer with proof of signs of abuse and we will be able to get Remus out _and _prosecute his father at the same time."

There was a pause as everyone in the room thought it over. Eventually McGonagall said, "Remus' father could easily inform the Ministry that Remus is a werewolf if we try to prosecute him."

"There must be a _reason _he has never told anyone before," Angela pointed out. "He hasn't even registered Remus. I know – I checked our records in the Magical Creatures Department. We just have to make sure that reason holds up, even if he's faced with a sentence in Azkaban."

"It's a good idea," Anders said eventually. "We will have to discuss it with Dumbledore. He has a lot of influence over the Ministry and will be able to help. The more proof of the abuse that we can get, the better as well. That way, they won't demand that Remus show the jury of Wizengamot his injuries and risk revealing his scars."

Sirius listened to them with awe. _This _was why it was good to have adults on your side. He had heard some truly _horrible _stories about Azkaban prison from his parents and he thought that it sounded like the perfect place to put Remus' father. He found himself growing to like the fragile-looking Angela more and more. She had a truly devious mind behind those big blue eyes and blonde curls. He could understand why Anders liked her.

When there was a lull in the conversation he tentatively put his hand up.

"What is it, Sirius?" Anders asked, looking at him kindly.

"I –uh – I could tell them about what I saw at the station," he said. "And about how he fainted from his injuries on the carriage."

"That might actually be a good idea," Anders said, looking at the two women. "If Sirius gave a statement under Verituserum it would give our case a lot of weight."

"I cannot allow you to administer Verituserum to one of my students without parental consent," McGonagall said regretfully. "Am I wrong in assuming that your parents won't allow it, Mr. Black?"

Sirius scowled. "They won't."

"No, it's okay," Anders said. "In a child abuse case, you only need to get the consent of the child himself – willing consent, mind you. There are many cases where parents weren't happy with their children being caught up in these cases so they changed the law."

"That's excellent, then," McGonagall said, looking satisfied. "The three of you must leave now, I'm afraid. We need to go have a chat to Professor Dumbledore."

Reluctantly, Sirius, James and Peter got to their feet and walked to the door. Just before they left, James turned around and peered in again. "We will be able to come and get him, won't we?" he asked, worry colouring his voice.

Sirius froze. He hadn't considered that they might not be allowed on the rescue mission.

"I really don't think that it would be appropriate – " McGonagall began, but was interrupted by Angela.

"If Remus is badly abused and traumatised, perhaps he would be more comfortable if his friends were with us when we came to rescue him," she said.

Both Anders and McGonagall looked very uncertain.

"There may be very disturbing things there," Anders said. "Things that children shouldn't see."

Sirius opened his mouth to protest that if Remus was _experiencing _them, the others could cope with only _seeing _them. He was beaten to it, though, by Angela speaking again.

"They saw the room he transforms in, and coped well enough," she said. "I believe we can trust them not to behave foolishly."

Anders and McGonagall sighed and nodded shortly. The Marauder's grinned at each other, then at Angela, who winked at them when Anders and McGonagall had their backs turned.

"I like her," Sirius announced, as they headed back to their common room.

"You would," Peter said, rolling his eyes. "She's like a grown up girl version of you and James. Very clever and sneaky."

"And marvellously good looking with not-at-all boring hair as well," James added sagely.

"Yes, if she was a boy, twenty years younger and not married to a professor, she could have been a Marauder," Sirius said.

Another week passed, and with it, Christmas. Although there were awe-inspiring decorations and celebrations the same as the year before, none of the Marauders felt able to get into the mood when they thought of the fact that Remus should have been with them. None of them could figure out why something as simple as getting a piece of paper from the Ministry saying they could enter someone's house, arrest them, and search for an abused child would take so long.

Eventually, however, almost a month after Remus had run away, the boys found themselves crowding around a portkey in the company of Anders, Angela, McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey and a very young tall, black Auror by the name of Kinsley Shacklebolt who, they were told, had promised to be discrete about Remus' lycanthropy.

Shacklebolt had protested vehemently when he heard that there were three second year boys tagging along on a Ministry-regulated rescue mission, but one stern look from Professor McGonagall had shut him up instantly. Sirius wondered if Shacklebolt had ever been one of her students who had failed to do his Transfiguration homework. He also wondered if McGonagall would agree to give him lessons in how to do 'the glare'.

There was a sharp tug just below his navel and the scene around them blurred. When it cleared, Sirius looked around to find himself standing in the garden of a small property set on the edge of a forest. The walls around the garden were very high – much too high for someone to climb over, and the cottage in front of them looked a bit battered and worn – much like everything belonging to Remus. The cream-coloured paint was peeling off the walls where ivy had worked its way into cracks, and the garden looked like it hadn't been tended in a very long time.

The boys trailed after the adults as they approached the door. Shacklebolt knocked sharply and there was a tense silence as they waited for a response. After a while there was the sound of footsteps and the door opened a little to reveal the suspicious face of the heavily-built man that Sirius had seen at the station. He had Remus' eyes, Sirius noted. Very light brown, almost amber. Sirius had assumed the eyes were part of the werewolf curse, but he had obviously been wrong.

"Mr. Lupin," Anders said importantly, "we have reason to assume that there is child abuse taking place in your house. We have a search warrant from the Ministry of Magic, as well as a warrant for your own arrest." He held up the warrants and Mr. Lupin's eyes widened. He tried to slam the door again, but Kingsley and Anders were already pushing their way in.

"_Petrificus Totalus!_" Anders said as he passed the violently protesting man and watched with more than a little savage pleasure as John Lupin keeled over and landed with a hard _thump _on the stone floor of his hall.

The Marauders nervously followed the adults into the house. They were under strict orders to keep out of the way as much as possible, but Sirius couldn't resist giving the frozen John Lupin a subtle kick on the temple as he stepped over him. "Oops," he muttered when Anders noticed and glared at him, not sounding in the least repentant.

Angela stood in the middle of the scruffy living room's floor and pulled an odd metal instrument out of her robe pocket. It had two tiny silver bells on either end of a slender silver stick that was, in turn, attached to a small, square arch. Angela gave the bells a flick and the slender stick began to swing. Every time one of the bells made contact with the top of the arch, a high, tuneful ringing sound filled the room.

"What's that?" James dared to ask.

"A werewolf detector," she answered absently, tilting her head as she listened to the ringing. "The silver stick spins faster the closer a werewolf is. It's how our Department find unregistered werewolves." She must have noticed their horrified looks because she hastened to assure them. "I'm not going to report him. I just thought this would be a best way to find him if he's hidden in this house." She blinked and turned towards the kitchen. "In there," she added.

They rest of them followed her into the kitchen. It was very clean, but like the rest of the house, all the furniture looked old and worn. Angela walked towards a large dresser that stood at one end of the room. Then she stopped, frowning.

"It says he's around here," she said.

"He's in the dresser?" Peter asked uncertainly. "I don't think even Remus is little enough to fit in there."

For one horrified moment, Sirius had a vision of Remus dead, chopped up into little pieces and hidden in the dresser. Then Angela spoke again. "It seems that he's under us."

"There must be a cellar," Shacklebolt said, stepping forward. He waved his wand, and with a loud scraping sound, the dresser slid across the floor. Sure enough, a wooden trapdoor was set into the floor of the kitchen.

"His bedroom," murmured Madame Pomfrey. "I hope that man rots in Azkaban!"

Shacklebolt knelt and tugged open the trapdoor. The others crowded around as he lowered himself down the ladder that led to the floor.

"_Great Merlin!_" they heard him exclaim, his voice horrified.

Immediately, Anders and Madame Pomfrey followed. "You boys stay up here," McGonagall told them sternly. The three Marauders stared at her as thought she were crazy.

"Of course we aren't!" Sirius said.

Before she could protest, he launched himself towards the ladder and scrambled down. The first thing he noticed was the smell. It was the same smell that permeated the bedroom in the shrieking shack – blood and wild animal. The air was thick and heavy, and as his eyes grew used to the gloom, Sirius became aware that they were in a 'bedroom' that seemed even more battered than the one in the shack.

The room contained one wardrobe, a bed, a bedside cabinet and Remus' now very scratched and tattered school trunk. Like the other room, the stone walls here were also splattered with blood – some old and well scrubbed bloodstains, and some looking new and sticky. Sirius felt bile rise in his throat and swallowed rapidly.

"Who would do this to a child?" Angela whispered. None of the others answered her, too busy staring round the room in disbelief and revulsion.

"Where is he?" Madame Pomfrey asked, her voice tremulous.

"Remus?" Sirius called softly. At the sound of his voice, the tiniest whimper could be heard from under the bed.

"Remus?" Anders said, approaching the bed. There was no answer this time. Anders looked up and beckoned Sirius, James and Peter over.

Sirius knelt beside the bed and peered into the gloom underneath. The smell of blood, sweat and wolf was even stronger and he could just make out a small shape curled up in the corner by the wall.

"Rem?" he reached out his hand to the dark shape. "It's Sirius. We've come to rescue you. James and Peter and I made all the adults help us come and find you."

There was another louder whimper this time but is sounded odd, as though Remus were struggling to form words underneath it.

"What did you say?"

"Sl'er axe."

Sirius froze, remembering what Angela had told him a few days before about the execution of werewolves.

"There's no silver axe," James said, kneeling beside Sirius and talking urgently. "We didn't tell the Ministry what you are, Rem. We don't care. You're still our friend."

"You are Remus," Peter said. "After Anders explained to me what the wizarding world's prejudice is, I looked right past it. I don't care."

"Wh'ps?" Came the small voice again.

"No whips either, mate," James said gently. "We promise. Just us and Anders and McGonagall – whose been doing 'The Glare' all day, mind, so stay out of her way. And Ander's wife who's almost a Marauder 'cos she let us come. And Madame Pomfrey who has evil-looking potions as usual so I would stay out of her way too. Oh, and this bloke called Shakky-something who has a sister whose a werewolf and he loves her."

There was an odd sound then, like a pained choke. Sirius' heart jumped with fright until he realised it was a very watery giggle. "Y're rambling, J'mes.."

"I see the inner Marauder's still with you, then," Sirius said dryly, almost smiling at James' rather indignant look. "We were missing his inventiveness for pranks."

There was a very long silence while everyone in the room held their breaths. The adults had backed away from the bed so they weren't crowding the boys. Sirius almost jumped when he suddenly felt a small and warm hand slip into his own one that he had stretched out under the bed. He gently gripped it back.

"Y'don' hate me?" the hope in that small voice was the most heartbreaking thing Sirius had ever heard.

"No, Rem. We really don't. You being a werewolf isn't a good enough reason to break a wish made with blood and moon shadows."

The hand in Sirius' jumped in shock. "You saw?"

"I saw," Sirius replied, speaking quietly and trying to make out Remus' expression. His eyes were growing used to the dark and he could just make out the gleam of those huge amber eyes watching him. "I followed you that night. You didn't need to do it, though. We wanted to be your friends before that. We were just a bit freaked out because we saw you beating up some Slytherins in the dungeon. That was awesome, by the way. Serves them right for trying to bully you."

There was another choked noise and another. Sirius felt Remus' hand shaking and this time he realised the other boy was crying.

"Th-th-thought y'hated m-m-me!"

Sirius shared a brief look with James and Peter, then knelt down, extending both arms under the bed. "Come out, Remus. We need to get you fixed up."

There was some shuffling noises and then the shape was moving towards him. When Remus emerged from under the bed, Sirius had to fight from crying out in shock. The small boy was a mess. He was streaked and covered with burns and blood had dyed his pyjamas almost entirely sticky red. It was impossible even to tell what colour his hair was. He was clutching some very battered boxes to his emaciated chest with one hand as he crawled.

"Ah, Rem," Sirius said, unable to think of anything else.

He pulled the unresisting boy gently into his arms and felt the small shape slump against him, still sobbing. Remus smelt terrible – a mixture of blood, sickness and infected wounds, but Sirius couldn't bring himself to care. He just held him in his arms feeling tears welling up in his own eyes.

"Remus?" James whispered, coming closer and taking one of Remus' hands, "We're sorry, we're sorry."

Peter joined them as well, and reached out to touch the boxes that Remus clutched against his chest. Sirius recognised them immediately. A box of Bertie Bott's every flavour beans, a box of fizzing wizzbees and box of chocolate frogs. One of them still had a scrap of Christmas wrapping paper clinging to it. Sirius felt his heart ache.

"I got you a better present than that this year," he murmured into Remus' ear.


	22. No Bras for Christmas, Only Friends

**Disclaimer: Not mine. The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**Warnings: Will be slash later on.**

**Wow! 57 reviews for one chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed. I hope you enjoy this new chapter. It's a bit cheerier than the last couple, so a lot of you might appreciate it ;)**

_Healing takes courage, and we all have courage, even if we have to dig a little to find it.__  
(Tori Amos)_

**REMUS:**

Remus didn't remember much about the rescue. He remembered the sound of the dresser moving and the way he hoped that this time – _this time _– maybe his father would do what Remus had been begging him to do for the last few days. Call the Ministry, report him, kill Remus himself… he didn't care how it happened, all he wanted was for the excruciating, never-ending pain to go away.

Then he remembered feet – more than one pair – and voices that his shaky brain struggled to identify. And then there was Sirius's voice and he knew that his mind had finally snapped. He couldn't prevent a whimper of relief. If his mind was gone, maybe he could distance himself from his battered body.

Things faded for a bit after that, until a hand suddenly appeared in his line of vision under the bed. Sirius's voice again. James's and Peter's. And there were no silver axes and no whips. They promised him that.

There were arms – arms that didn't flinch with revulsion and disgust the way his father's did. He knew he smelled bad. The stench was a barrage on his sensitive nose, and even ordinary humans had to smell it. But the arms stayed around him and he knew the scent they brought with them. It was the blue-grey smell you got just before the rain, tempered with spiky citrus. Sirius. And then there were other smells. A hand touched his own and there was the cool green-brown smell of cut grass and carved wood that he knew was James. Then someone bobbed down on his other side and it was the scratchy smell of toast and sawdust - Peter.

The scents mingled together, trying to drown out his own smell of blood, sickness and hopelessness. They smelled of friends.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Two days later, Remus was woken from his drugged sleep by the sound of raised voices in the corridor outside the Hospital Wing.

"Oh _please _let us come and see him!"

"Mr. Potter, I've told you a hundred times, Remus is very poorly and he's not ready for visitors right now." Madame Pomfrey sounded very stern and Remus knew exactly what expression she would be wearing. He wondered how the others weren't intimidated by it.

"He'd _want _to see us."

"Please Madame Pomfrey." Remus rolled his eyes. Sirius was using his misunderstood-pureblood-outcast voice. "We have chocolate. And Christmas presents. It'll cheer him up."

"Mr. Black, what part of 'no' are you failing to understand?"

"We do bribes," Sirius's said winningly, obviously trying another tact. "We could get you anything within reason. You'll be amazed the kind of contacts the Ancient and Moste Noble Family Black has."

"_Mister _Black. You cannot bribe a school Healer into letting you into the Hospital Wing against her wishes!" Madame Pomfrey sounded as though she didn't know whether to be shocked, angry or amused. Remus wasn't surprised. Sirius tended to have that effect on most people. Remus could hear other students stifling laughter and realised that his friends must have drawn an audience.

"Alright," James said, his voice sounding very resigned. "We really didn't want to do this, but you've given us no choice."

"What are you talking about, Mr. Potter?" Madame Pomfrey said, sounding very suspicious. Remus couldn't blame her.

Their were three light thumps and then three voices chorusing "_Please_, oh PLEASE, oh PLEASE let us into the Hospital Wing most beautiful and wonderful Madame Pomfrey!"

"Mr, Black, Mr. Potter, Mr. Pettigrew! Get _off _you knees this _instant! _This is _entirely _inappropriate!"

The other people in the hallway were openly laughing now.

"You are a wonderful and wise healer!" James said dramatically.

"You have saved our school from harm many a time!" Peter added. "We only ask one thing of you."

"Your potions are… admittedly revolting… but very effective!" Sirius announced. "And you, Ma'am, are a fine figure of a woman!"

"_MISTER BLACK!_"

Remus couldn't help laughing. It made his whole body burn and ache, but he couldn't have stopped if he tried.

"Your hair is like melted chocolate!" James said, taking up where Sirius left off.

"Your eyes are – " Sirius began.

"_Alright! ALRIGHT!_" Madame Pomfrey said, sounding frazzled and trying to speak over the hilarity breaking out all down the hallway. "You may see him for a very short while if you promise to be good!"

"Thank you! Thank you most wise and – "

"Mr. Black if you finish that sentence I will personally ensure that you will not leave the hospital wing for a _week_. And the rest of you can leave _now_!"

There was the sound of many footsteps hurrying away, then the door opened and the Marauders sauntered in, followed by a flushed looking Madame Pomfrey.

"That was quite a show," Remus managed to wheeze around his laughing and the pain.

"Look what you've done to him already," Madame Pomfrey said, staring accusingly at the three boys. "You'd better behave, or I'll go to your head of house! I'll be in my office."

She swept out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

"Well, that was fun," James said, throwing himself onto a chair by Remus's bed and grinning at him. "Did anyone else know Madame Pomfrey could turn such an interesting shade of puce?"

"I can't believe you guys did that!" Remus said, finally breaking off from laughing and sinking back against his pillows.

"Well, we wanted to see you," Peter said, taking the chair beside James.

"I gathered that. I still can't believe you did it, though."

"Let it never be said that Marauders are above using underhand methods to reach their goals," James said grandly.

"So Mister Moony, how are you feeling?" Sirius flung himself onto the bed beside Remus, causing him to hastily shuffle out of the way to avoid getting squashed.

"Sirius!" Peter said. "You could have hurt him."

"No I couldn't. He has wolfie powers. He got out the way in time."

"Wolfie powers?" Remus said indignantly. "Mister _Moony_?"

"It's a good name, isn't it?" Sirius said, sounding pleased. "James thought of it."

Remus glared at James who had the grace to look a little apologetic. "I didn't know it would catch on so well."

"Don't you like it?" Sirius said plaintively.

Remus sighed. He could never resist Sirius when he did puppy dog eyes, and in truth he didn't mind the name too much. He had never had a proper nickname before, and the moon was involved in so much of his life, he supposed he couldn't think of a better one. "Well, it's better than Loopy anyway," he said. Sirius looked pleased.

"Anyway, we were doing research on werewolves while you were getting better, and we came to the conclusion that you're not a very good one," Peter said.

Remus raised an eyebrow, trying not to show how uncomfortable he felt about discussing his deepest, most hateful secret in such a playful manner. "Oh? I think I tick all the boxes. I got bitten, I have a horrible temper sometimes, I'm very strong and have good smell and hearing. Silver burns me. And of course I turn into a murderous, ravening beast once a month."

"Ah," James said, "but do you use your false human mask to seduce innocent people into befriending you, just so you can rip their throats out and eat their still-warm flesh while they sleep."

"Er…no?" Remus said. He was beginning to guess the kind of werewolf books the library was stocked with.

"Do you use your inhuman strength and violent, wolfish nature to bend innocents to your will, and so create a following of helpless human slaves?" Peter said.

"Um, not recently."

"Do you wish to roam free all the time, attacking humans at will, thus spreading thy hellish curse and creating a nation of ravening beasts bent on causing chaos and bloodshed?" Sirius asked with interest.

"Only first thing in the morning if I haven't had a cup of coffee."

"There, you see." Peter said, looking pleased. "Not a proper werewolf at all."

"Those books you read were written by prejudice, bigoted gits who wouldn't recognise a real werewolf if it put on a grass skirt and danced the hula in front of them."

"Ooh!" Sirius said. "Is that one of your secret werewolf skills?"

"No!"

"Do you have any good ones we can read then?" James asked, his face becoming serious. "We want to find out as much as we can so we can help you."

Remus felt warmth run through him at that statement and a light flush come to his cheeks. "I've got some in my trunk. Did you rescue my trunk?"

"What do you take us for?" Sirius asked teasingly. "We're Marauders. We pillaged your room and brought everything."

Remus smiled.

"There wasn't much in there, but we couldn't find the rest of your stuff," Peter said.

Remus flushed in embarrassment. "That's it. It was all in there. That's my bedroom."

There was silence, then Sirius said with disbelief in his voice, "What? Not only over the full moon?"

"No, that's been my bedroom ever since I was bitten."

"But it was all…"

"I know."

"I'm going to _kill _him!"

"Sirius, that's my father you're talking about!" Remus said a little desperately.

"I don't bloody care!"

"I do! He's my father! He's my only family! Where is he? What have you lot done to him?"

"Remus, calm down." James leant over Sirius where he lay with his arms crossed and glowering on the bed next to Remus. He gripped Remus's shoulder gently. "We haven't done anything to him. He's in custody at the Ministry under charges of child abuse."

"What?" It was hardly spoken it was so soft. Remus felt as though he had been kicked in the stomach. "You told me you hadn't gone to the Ministry."

"We told you we hadn't told them about you being a werewolf. And we haven't. And they're not going to find out. But your father has to pay for what he did to you. It was vile and inhuman."

"I'm not human," Remus whispered, his head spinning.

And then Sirius had moved and Remus felt himself once more enveloped in those arms, though they held him gently to avoid hurting his wounds. Remus was so wrapped up in bandages he could barely feel most of the places Sirius was touching him, but he felt warmth, and he felt Sirius's hand on the back of his neck, supporting him.

"You are, damn it!" the bigger boy said. "You're a person and what he did was wrong. I don't know why you don't get that."

"He did it to _help _me Sirius. To stop the wolf coming out and taking over."

"Oh come on, Remus," James said, staring at him in disbelief. "We know practically nothing about werewolves and even we know that making your angry or hurt or upset brings the wolf closer to the surface, not further away. You were barely in human mind at all when we found you."

Remus jerked and tried to pull away, feeling tears beginning to well up. He used all his strength to fight them.

"Remus," Sirius said, rubbing his back and refusing to let him go. "Remus, mate, we saw you like that and we still want to be your friends. Isn't that enough for you to believe we want what's best for you?"

"It's my _Dad_!" Remus choked.

"We'll be your family now," Peter said. "You don't need him. We won't hurt you."

Remus found he couldn't answer that unless he wanted the tears to escape. None of them said anything for a while and Sirius didn't let go of him. The hand on his back kept moving until Remus's ragged breathing was back under control.

"And on to something more cheerful," James said suddenly, making them all jump. "Presents and chocolate!"

Sirius immediately pulled away and started grinning. He leant over the edge of his bed and started digging through his bag, which he had thrown on the floor when he came in. He came up with piles of chocolate, which he dumped without ceremony onto a surprised Remus's lap. "Get well chocolate," he said proudly.

Remus opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, James and Peter dropped more onto the pile.

"W-w-what?" Remus said, staring down at the biggest pile of sweets he had seen outside Honeydukes.

"They're mostly from us, but some are from other people," Peter told him. "Anders and Angela, Professor McGonagall, that Shakkybolt Auror bloke and the sherbet lemons are from Dumbledore. They're some sort of Muggle sweet."

"Dumbledore?" Remus said weakly.

"But those aren't your Christmas presents," Sirius added. "You missed Christmas, so we brought them here today. You two give yours first."

James and Peter grinned and James pulled something out of his bag. "We put our money together," he said. "'Cos we wanted to get you a really nice one."

"What?" Remus said again. He was starting to panic. "I haven't got you any yet! I didn't have a ch-chance!"

Sirius put a calming hand on his arm. "We know, Moony. It wasn't your fault. If you really want to get us something, we can sneak into Hogsmeade at some point and you can buy us some stuff from Zonko's."

"We can't sneak into Hogsmeade!" Remus said. "Don't you remember what happened last time?"

"It's okay," James said. "Didn't you hear? It was in the Prophet yesterday. The Ministry Aurors found the Death Eater hideout. They caught twelve who are now on trial for a long stay in Azkaban. A coupe fled, but they're keeping a low profile now. There're not nearly enough of them to cause more trouble for a long time, and Voldemort is hiding as well. They reckon he's biding his time. Plus they've put all sorts of Auror security round Hogsmeade now. Now can we get on with the presents?"

Remus was still feeling rather shell-shocked as James thrust the small, brightly wrapped package into his hand. "Happy Christmas, Moony. From me and Pete. You'll have to cast _engorgio _on it. We shrunk it to make it easier to carry."

Remus dazedly began unwrapping the present. What dropped out into his hand was a miniature wooden trunk. He stared at it open-mouthed.

"Come on, Rem," James said impatiently. "He picked the trunk out of Remus's hand and placed it on the floor. "_Engorgio!_"

The trunk grew and expanded until it stood full-sized on the floor. It was brand new, polished and glossy, made out of red-brown cherry wood. On the front was a polished brass plaque reading 'R. J. Lupin'.

"It's bigger on the inside," Peter said. "We didn't want to go through all your stuff, so we just tipped your old one upside down into it. I hope you didn't have anything breakable in it."

"I…I…" Remus tried to talk, but his throat kept closing.

"Do you like it?" James asked uncertainly. "The wolf had all chewed up your old one."

"Y-you shouldn't have spent so much money on me," Remus said, his heart beating wildly. "I can't give you anything like this. It's beautiful!"

James's and Peters' faces relaxed into relieved grins. "I don't want a boring trunk, mate," James said. "I already got one. I'd much prefer some dung bombs. I have this new plan for Snivellus – "

"Thank you!" Remus interrupted him, reaching across Sirius to grip James's hand and then Peter's. "This is the best present I've ever had."

His two friends grinned back at him, looking very pleased with themselves.

"Now Sirius's," James said, poking Sirius who had been lounging on the bed beside Remus watching with a grin. "He has been all secretive about it. He wouldn't tell us what it was and he got _Anders _to order it for him."

"Order it?" Remus asked, looking at Sirius. That sounded expensive.

"Yeah." Sirius began to look a little uncomfortable.

"Well?" Peter said impatiently. "Where is it, then?"

"I just…" Sirius pulled a small wrapped box out of his pocket. "It's stupid, really. I mean, it's a bit girly…" His cheeks were red.

"_Girly?_" James said, raising his eyebrows. "What did you get him? A bra?"

Sirius flushed even more and stuffed the box back in his pocket. "No! I just… I don't want to give it to you anymore. I'll get you something else."

Remus shot a furious look over Sirius's bent head towards James who looked very guilty. Remus reached out and touched Sirius's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I don't care if it's girly," he said, trying to keep his voice light. "I can't think why you would think that would bother me. I'm Loopy, remember? I like all sorts of weird things."

Sirius didn't answer, he just ducked his head more. "C'mon Sirius," Remus whined, putting on his best pout. He hadn't had much practice, but apparently it worked because Sirius glanced up and couldn't help quirking his mouth into a small smile when he caught sight of Remus's face.

"Fine!" he said, pulling the box out and throwing it to Remus. "But I vote we get that puppy-dog face outlawed. It's too irresistible to be legal. I don't know why you haven't used it against McGonagall before. She would melt into a puddle."

"Because unlike you and James who have to talk their way out of trouble all the time," Remus said, beginning to open the present. "I don't get caught."

James and Peter snickered, but Sirius only watched apprehensively as Remus pulled a small, green box out of the wrapping paper. He carefully opened it and peered inside. He caught his breath. It was a pendent on a chain, made of some silvery-blue metal that wasn't silver because he felt no heat coming from it at all. It was in the shape of a hand; slender fingers spread apart, each in minute detail. Set into the palm of the hand was a round, facetted blood-red stone. He knew it wasn't a ruby, because the Gryffindor rubies that resided in their point-scoring hourglass were pink-red. This was dark, crimson-red.

He didn't need Sirius to give him an explanation for the present. Even as he stared down at it, an image rose into his mind of his own hand, fingers spread wide, hovering over the ground to drip blood onto the moon shadow that he cast. This was overlapped by another image of a bloody handprint on the wooden wall of the shrieking shack, and worry and fear Sirius's face as his eyes rose to meet Remus's in the dim light of his wand.

Sirius cleared his throat very awkwardly as the silence lengthened. "It's a garnet. The stone, I mean."

Remus felt the tears he had been able to fight earlier attack with renewed vigour. One managed to escape and trickled down his cheek.

"Remus?" Sirius sounded horrified.

He didn't get a chance to say anything else, because Remus had lunged across the bed to hug him, pulling the bigger boy into his arms and squeezing him hard. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" he said, horrified himself to hear his voice sounding so watery.

Sirius's arms came up tentatively to hold him back. "It's okay. It wasn't much."

"Bloody hell, mate," James said, reaching over to pry the box from Remus's hand. "What did you get him? I've _never _seen Remus show that much emotion."

He and Peter leant over to look at the pendent.

"Ah, I see," James said, grinning. "Sirius, I hate to break this to you, but you were right. You really are such a girl."

"I am not," Sirius pulled away from Remus to glare at James.

"Of course not. It's a _manly _necklace."

"It's not a necklace," Remus said indignantly, grabbing it back from James. "It's a pendant. Lots of guys wear pendants."

"Hey hey!" James said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I was just messing with you guys. I like it. Really. I think it was a good present." He looked at Sirius so the other boy could see he was telling the truth. Sirius relaxed and grinned.

"Better than an old wooden box anyway," he said.

"Oh, stuff it, Black."

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A week later, two days before the end of the Christmas holidays, Remus wandered out of the Great Hall in the direction of the Library, his nose buried in a book.

"Remus?"

He looked up and smiled when he saw Anders and Angela heading towards him. Today Angela's pale hair was even fluffier than normal. Four giant ornamental butterflies rested among her curls so she looked rather like a giant flower.

"Hello, Professor. Angela."

"Call me Neil," Anders said, making a face. "I'm not your professor anymore."

Remus smiled uncertainly.

"Where are your friends?" Angela asked, looking over Remus's shoulder.

"Oh, off pranking Slytherins," Remus said, his smile widening. "They offered to let me come along, but I'm still not really up to the hasty retreat we are often reduced to."

"You mean the running away?" she said, a teasing note in her voice.

"It's always important to know when to cut your losses," Remus said sagely. "I can't really run at the moment. I end up trailing bandages like an enraged Egyptian mummy and Madame Pomfrey gets upset. Especially since I've only been out the Hospital Wing for three days."

"And of course, you're the good boy of the gang," Neil added, smiling at Remus.

Remus made a non-committal sound and tucked his book into his bag. "Did you two want me for anything, or did you just stop to chat?"

"We actually wanted to talk to you about something," Angela said seriously. Shall we go and sit somewhere?"

"If you want to," Remus said. "I was just – "

He broke off as the sound of running footsteps approached at the edge of his sensitive hearing. "You might was to pin yourself against the wall," he said to his two companions, following his own advice. They gave him an odd look, but obeyed. Seconds later, the footsteps grew louder, accompanied by the sound of yelling and laughing.

"_We'll get you bloody Gryffindors!_" someone was yelling, "_You wait until your parents hear about this, Black!_"

Suddenly Sirius and James swooped round the corner at top speed, rebounding off the wall and sprinting in the direction of Remus, Neil and Angela. They skidded to a brief halt as they caught sight of their friend.

"Bloody…brilliant…spell…Moony!" James panted, slapping Remus on the back. "Don't… know… what we…would do…without you."

"Just wait…till you see 'em," Sirius added.

The footsteps grew nearer and the two of them took off again, heading out the main doors and outside. A few seconds later they were followed by a group of five furious-looking Slytherin third-years, all sporting neon pink hair, shortened, knee-length school robes with pink lace on the cuffs, fishnet tights and a sign on each of their backs reading 'kick us while we're down'. They hurtled outside after the two black-haired Gryffindors.

"So," Remus said, turning back to Neil and Angela who had been watching the scene open-mouthed. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"They're a bad influence on you," Neil said sternly.

"Nope," Remus said, picking up his bag and leading them in the direction of the Great Hall again so they could talk. "I'm a bad influence on them. Who do you think came up with those spells? Can you picture either James or Sirius doing research in the library? And Peter, much as he's our mate, is not really the brightest _lumos_ charm in the wand-shop."

"Those boys are very intelligent," Neil said, staring after Sirius and James. "They could do so much if they just put a bit of work in."

"I know," Remus said. "I work three times as hard as them and still get the same marks. It's rather unfair."

"Your marks are brilliant," Angela said.

"My point exactly." Remus smiled. "I don't care though. They've done more for me than anyone else ever has." His hand went up to unconsciously touch the pendant.

They reached the Great Hall and sat at the end of the Gryffindor table.

"Remus, we were wondering what you know about your father's trial," Neil said carefully.

Remus immediately stiffened, his good mood leaving him. "I know that he's being accused of…of…child a-abuse." It was so difficult to say those words. He hated them. "I wish he wasn't. I wish you'd drop the charges. He was only trying to protect me."

"Do you really think that?" Angela asked. "Do you really think he loves you?" The butterflies' wings fluttered in her hair as she tilted her head to look at him. Remus fixed his eyes on them so he wouldn't have to look at her face.

"I don't…I don't think he really l-l-loves me," he managed to say. "But he loved my mother. And she would have wanted to protect me. That's why he never reported me. For her."

"Remus," Anders said, leaning forward to make Remus look at him. "I think he was taking out his anger at having to protect you on you. It was wrong and wicked that he should do that to a child. Don't you want him to feel sorry for what he did? He starved you, beat you, burnt you, and imprisoned you. Imagine if that had happened to James or Sirius or Peter. What would you feel towards the people who did that to them?"

Remus looked away. "They're not werewolves."

"It doesn't matter what they are. Even if they were werewolves, what would you feel?"

Remus struggled with himself. "Angry," he whispered eventually.

"Yes," Angela said, gently taking his hand. "That's how we feel as well. Can you see now? You're a handsome, bright, fun young man who deserves a chance at life, just like anyone else. And the only way you're going to get that is if you're rid of that man. We're going to get him put in Azkaban so that can happen."

"Azkaban is horrible," Remus said tremulously. "I read stories."

"That's the point, love. We want criminals to learn that they shouldn't hurt people or they will get punished."

Remus felt himself tearing up inside. Part of him had an instinctive child's love for his father still – something deep and bitter that demanded he protect the man. Another part of him wanted nothing more than to see him suffer in hell. And yet another part remembered that John Lupin had bravely stood in front of a slavering werewolf to protect his wife. At the same time he couldn't help remembering that this had left Remus open for another attack.

"I don't know what to feel," he said softly.

"I know it's hard. We just want to help. And you know we're here for you just like your friends are."

"If…If he goes. To Azkaban, I mean. I don't' have anywhere to go."

"That's what we wanted to talk to you about," Neil said, and Remus felt the man take his other hand. "We wanted to offer our home to you, if you want it."

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	23. ChildLike Moony

**Disclaimer: Not mine. The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**Warnings: Will be slash later on.**

**Hey! Thanks for all the lovely reviews as ever. Hope you like this chapter. Moonsign XX**

_A characteristic of the normal child is he doesn't act that way very often._

_(Author Unknown)_

**SIRIUS:**

Sirius lay awake and pondered the merits of getting up out of his warm and comfortable bed to relief his full bladder, as opposed to trying to ignore it and going back to sleep. He wasn't sure how long he lay there, but when he shifted and rolled over onto his stomach, he spotted the fact that the sky outside was still pitch black indicating a long wait until morning, and the movement caused the need to become worse.

Groaning in annoyance, he slipped out of bed and crept to the bathroom to relieve himself. On the way back, he glanced over and caught sight of Remus's bed. The curtains were half-open, revealing the fact that the werewolf wasn't there.

Sirius frowned and glanced towards the dormitory door which was open a crack. He sighed and gave a longing glance back towards his bed, before he crept out the door and headed downstairs to the common room.

Standing in the doorway, he glanced around. The common room was lit only by the dying fire in the massive stone fireplace. He eventually caught sight of Remus curled up on the window ledge, dressed in his tatty, too-long pyjamas. Sirius hesitated, uncertain as to whether he should break the other boy's solitude. The decision was made for him when Remus cocked his head to the side without turning away from the window and said, "Did I wake you?"

"Nah," Sirius said, moving towards him, "I had to pee."

"You pee in the common room at night?" Remus asked, sounding faintly amused as he angled his head a little towards Sirius.

"No, you silly git," Sirius poked him on the shoulder. "I saw your bed was empty and wondered where you were." He was silent for a moment, but when it became obvious that Remus wasn't going to answer he added, "How did you know it was me?"

"We could sense you," Remus answered, his voice listless with exhaustion.

Sirius glanced around. "We?"

"Me and Moony. He's nearer to the surface this close to full moon. Though I could have sensed you even if he wasn't." He sighed. "He seems closer today for some reason. I'm not really sure why. Right inside my head."

Sirius peered over Remus's shoulder and saw the moon hanging almost full and heavy in the sky. "When is it?"

"Tomorrow."

Sirius sighed and climbed up onto the ledge beside Remus, their shoulders touching. "Can you talk to him? Moony, I mean."

"Kind of," Remus said. "It's not proper conversations. He doesn't have a human mind. He has an animal one and he talks a bit like a child. You know; _kill, eat, hungry, what this?_ He comes closer to the surface around the full moon and when I feel strong emotions like anger or pain or something. He wants to take over when that happens and I have to fight him back."

Something clicked in Sirius's head. "Ah! Like on the train in first year. And all those other times we thought you were mental and talking to yourself."

Remus smiled wryly, turning to look properly at Sirius for the first time. "I _was_ talking to myself. Moony is part of me."

"That's a bit freaky, you know. Not in a bad way. Just that you have, like, two personalities living in you."

Remus turned back and leant his forehead on the cool glass of the window. "I didn't ask for it. Sirius."

"I know you didn't." Sirius reached out to touch Remus's shoulder and felt the boy tense when his fingers made contact. "I know you didn't Remus. And I think it's quite cool."

"Hah!" Remus tilted his face, without raising his head to give Sirius a small smile. This close, Sirius could see the weariness and pain on his drawn face.

"I wish there was something we could do to help you."

"There's not. Do you think I haven't looked?"

"We're the Marauders. We'll think of something."

Remus smiled again, looking touched but unconvinced.

"So why are you down here so late? Shouldn't you be getting rest?" Sirius asked, changing the subject.

"I find it hard to sleep around this time. And I had stuff to think about."

"What stuff?"

Remus sighed, turning to stare out of the window again. "They asked me if I wanted to live with them."

"What?" Sirius asked, confused. "Who?"

"The Anders. They asked me if I wanted to live with them if my father gets put into p-p-prison."

"Oh, Remus." Sirius didn't know how to react. In a way he thought he should be delighted that he wouldn't have to worry about his small friend not having a home, but at the same time he could see it was causing Remus further conflict. "What did you say?"

"I said I'd think about it. I don't know what to _do_!" Remus's voice cracked as he bowed his head further. The gold-brown tawny hair slipped forward to obscure his face. "He's my _Dad_! That has to mean something, right? He's my last remaining family. I feel like I'm...I don't know... betraying him."

Sirius tentatively put his arm around the little werewolf's shoulders. "He hurt you."

"But he said it was for my own good."

"Do you really believe that, Moony?"

There was a very long silence, then in a voice that was more like a sob: "I don't know!"

"We'll make sure no one ever makes you do something you don't want to do," Sirius said fiercely, tightening his arm around Remus's thin shoulders. "James and Pete and I will make sure of that."

"I always dreamed about having friends like you."

"No you didn't," Sirius said, giving Remus a little smirk. "Even someone of your brilliant intelligence couldn't dream up something as wonderful as me."

Remus gave a watery chuckle. "You're right. How could I dream up someone possessing such incredible humbleness and modesty?"

Sirius wrinkled his forehead for a moment. "That was an insult, wasn't it?"

"Of course not. Would I ever do that?"

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"We seem to spend an _awful _lot of time in here," Peter said, biting the head off one of the chocolate frogs meant for Remus as they approached the hospital wing.

"Think how bad it must be for Remus," James pointed out. "He really _is _in here all the time. I just hope Madame Pomfrey lets us see him. It's a good thing the full moon was last night rather than tonight. School starts again tomorrow."

"Don't eat all the chocolate frogs," Sirius added, making a grab for the bag Peter was carrying. "They're not meant for you.

They pushed open the door to the hospital wing and looked around. All the beds were empty.

"Where is he?" Peter asked.

"What are you boys doing here?" said Madame Pomfrey, sounding startled as she came out of a little room at the back of the main ward.

"We came to see Remus," James said.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said, not sounding angry, only regretful. "You don't know what he's like the day after a transformation."

"We've seen him hurt worse than that," said Sirius stubbornly.

"It's not just that." she pushed back her dark hair from her forehead with one hand. Sirius couldn't help noticing that she looked very strained. He felt worry uncurl in his chest.

"Well? What is it then?"

"He…" she stopped, searching for words. "Do you remember what he was like when we found him at his home?"

"Yeah," Peter said uncertainly. "He was all bleeding and hurt and stuff."

"No, I mean what _he _was like. I mean how he reacted."

Sirius frowned trying to understand. "What?"

She sighed. "The wolf is still very strong in him the day after full moon. Very strong. It affects his mind a little bit and makes him act… react…and speak a bit like a child. Because he was in pain when we found him, the wolf was close to the surface again. That's why he talked like he did. And why his memories are a bit hazy."

Sirius remembered his conversation with Remus about Moony's childish personality. It made sense, he supposed.

"It's worse this time," she said softly.

"What do you mean?" James asked, worry colouring his voice.

"I think it has to do with the abuse he suffered over Christmas. For some reason he's worse today. He usually fights against the wolf, even in this condition. He can carry out normal, simple conversations as long as they're not too taxing. He's aware of what's going on around him. Today he just…He can't even really form sentences. I think the damage done to him has brought the wolf very close to the surface. I fear it might be permanent - that he might always be like this after the full moon now. I think a bit of the barrier that naturally occurs between his mind and the wolf's is broken."

"We don't mind," Sirius said firmly, trying not to show that his heart was hammering with anxiety for their small friend. "We still want to see him. I bet he'd be glad to see us."

She visibly struggled with herself, until finally she gave in and nodded. "Just don't… tease him about it after he recovers," she pleaded.

"We would never!" James said, looking insulted that she would think such a thing.

"I know, I know. You're good lads." She waved towards the door she had just emerged from. "He's in there."

They entered the room a little uncertainly, not knowing what to expect. Sirius saw that it was made of the same clean, pale stone that made up the rest of the hospital wing. There was a large, white porcelain basin in the corner and a large window above the bed, which, unlike the other plain white hospital beds, was covered with a scarlet, Gryffindor duvet. Remus was only a small lump beneath the covers.

Sirius hesitantly went towards the bed, looking down at his friend. Remus was almost entirely hidden beneath the bedclothes, leaving only a shock of tawny hair resting on the red pillowcase.

"Remus?"

The covers shifted a little and the top half of a face emerged to observe him with wide, amber eyes.

"Siri's?" Remus's voice emerged uncertainly, muffled by the duvet.

"Yup, it's me, Moony. And James and Peter. We brought you some chocolate to make you feel better."

"Chocl't?"

"Yes. Do you want some?"

A small hand slid out from the covers, palm-up. Peter stepped forward and placed a chocolate frog in it.

The rest of the face emerged, lit with a grin.

"Mine?"

"Yup. All for you, Moony." In spite of his light words, Peter looked pale and shocked.

The three boys pulled up the visitor chairs beside the bed as Remus struggled with the wrapper, his face intent. After a while a frustrated frown formed on his forehead, turning into a wince and a whimper as he gave a vicious pull at the wrapper and agitated his wounds.

"Let me," Sirius said, holding out his hand.

"Mine!"

"I know, Moony. I'll just unwrap it for you."

Remus eyed him suspiciously; a soft, surprisingly deep growl of warning rising in his throat, before he carefully placed the chocolate frog in Sirius's hand. He unwrapped it quickly and handed it back. Remus stuffed it into his mouth with a clumsy hand, as though afraid they would take it back at any moment and Sirius felt almost sick with pity. He thought of bright, intelligent, mischievous Remus being reduced to this every full moon. And then he remembered that John Lupin was responsible. The dark red-black hatred flared in his chest.

"There's more, Rem," James said, his voice cracking just a bit. Sirius wondered if he felt as bad as he did. "You don't have to gulp them down like that, mate."

Peter tipped the bag they had brought with them out on the bed in front of Remus who looked at the other Marauders uncertainly, his fingers twitching towards the sweets. There was chocolate smeared round his mouth. Sirius picked up another chocolate frog and unwrapped it, handing it over. This time Remus ate it a bit more slowly.

"Is it sore, Moony?" Peter asked, waving a little towards Remus's obviously bandaged arm beneath his pyjamas.

Remus looked at him, then down at his arm. He plucked at the sleeve so it rose up a little revealing new, healing scratches over the scars. "Moony hurt," he told them earnestly.

Sirius was unsure whether he was referring to himself in the third person, or whether he was trying to tell them that the wolf, Moony, had hurt him.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"No you," Remus said, reaching out reassuringly to pat Sirius's hand where it rested on the bed. "_Moony _hurt."

It was a long awkward morning that followed. Eventually, Remus grew tired and began drifting off to sleep, his hands and face sticky with chocolate. The boys removed the remaining chocolate to the bedside table and looked down at the dozing boy hesitantly.

"Do you reckon we should clean him up a bit?" James asked, his cheeks flushing darkly with embarrassment.

"I reckon we should," Peter said. "Madame Pomfrey would probably kill us if she found out how much chocolate we fed him."

The two of them turned to Sirius and he took a step back. "No! Why me?"

"Well," James said, waving his hands vaguely. "You know you ...hug him and stuff more than we do."

"I do _not_!"

James and Peter just stared at him.

"I don't see why I should clean him up," Sirius said sulkily.

"There's a cloth over there," James said, pointing to the stone sink in a little corner alcove.

Remus mumbled a little, and his sticky fingers tightened on the sheets. Sirius glanced at him and sighed. "Gits!" he aimed at James and Peter, walking over to get the cloth. He very awkwardly began to wipe the worst of the chocolate off Remus's fingers. He couldn't help noticing once again how small the other boy's hands were. Everything about Remus seemed so vulnerable, but he knew from experience that the werewolf was anything but that.

Remus's eyes flickered open a little as Sirius wiped his mouth. He made a questioning noise that sounded more canine than human.

"Just cleaning you up a bit, Moony. Go back to sleep."

Remus obediently closed his eyes and drifted off again.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus missed the first day of classes the next day. It was not until the evening when the rest of the Marauders were sitting by the fire playing exploding snap that he returned. Sirius spotted him first as he climbed through the portrait hole gingerly to avoid aggravating his injuries.

"Hey, Remus, mate!" he called. "Over here"

Remus glanced at them, then flushed, looking down to avoid meeting their eyes. He approached hesitantly.

"What's wrong, Rem?" James asked him, tone worried as Remus sat on the edge of a sofa instead of lounging on the floor like the rest of them.

"Madame Pomfrey said you came to see me," Remus said, his face painfully red. "I remember bits of it. I wish you hadn't."

"Why?" Sirius asked. "You looked happy enough to see us."

Remus just frowned, dipping his chin even more. He mumbled something that they couldn't catch.

"What?"

"I said I wish you hadn't seen me like that!" he snapped, jerking his head up. Sirius jumped, feeling hurt by the reaction until he saw the humiliation in Remus's eyes and realised it was just severely damaged pride that had caused the reaction.

"Remus, we…" James began, then broke off, at a loss for words.

"It's what friends do," Sirius said, keeping his voice gentle. "They see each other at their worst and stick with them anyway. We didn't mind at all. You were kind of cute." He then felt himself blushing, horrified by what he had said.

Remus covered his face with his hands and groaned. "I don't _want _to be 'cute'!"

"I-I didn't mean that," Sirius stuttered around his embarrassment. James whacked him over the back of the head.

"Yes you did," the messy-haired boy said. "It's true, Rem. You were a bit. I'm sorry."

"Just kill me now," Remus moaned. "And she said it's probably going to be forever as well."

"Is it really?" Sirius asked, his heart sinking.

"She's going to keep looking for a cure, but they think a bit of the barrier between me and Moony is properly broken now."

"Hey, we're sorry, mate."

Remus sighed. "Not your fault. Just another one of those things, I suppose." The shadows in his eyes made him look a hundred years older.

"Look at it like this," Peter said, "_You _only act like a kid once a month. James and Sirius do it all the time."

"Hey!" the two dark-haired Marauders said indignantly.

Remus couldn't help a snicker escaping at their expressions. "He does have a point," he said.

"Please don't make us promise not to come back," James said. "We like to check you're okay."

Remus sighed, looking away. "I just feel so stupid. I'm sitting there in my head screaming 'stop acting like that!' and the rest of me just ignores it."

"We know you're not really like that, Moony," Sirius said.

"Fine. But don't you _dare _ever mention what happens in that room to _anyone_."

"We wouldn't. You know that."

They sat in awkward silence for a while before Remus murmured; "it was sort of nice to have you there. I felt …safe."

"It's what we're there for, mate," James said, visibly relaxing as the awkward conversation drew to an end. "Now do you want to come have a go beating Sirius at exploding snap? He's lost every game so far."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Dear Sirius,_

_I hope you're doing okay at Hogwarts. I'm missing you here as usual. Mum and Dad have got a new tutor in here for me who is even worse than that old bat whose ears you make drop off that one time. He's a proper pureblood nutter and he's obsessed with teaching me the history of every pureblood family in existence. _

_I read the paper this morning and I saw an article about this Lupin bloke who's going on trial for child abuse. That's nothing to do with _your _Lupin is it? You'd better not get involved in the case. Mum and Dad were not very sympathetic and if they hear you've got anything to do with it you'll really get it bad when you come home. Just thought I should warn you. _

_I hate it here without you. I wish I were at Hogwarts already. I can't wait until next year when I can also be there. _

_Yours,_

_Regulus_


	24. The Price of Belonging to You

**Disclaimer: Not mine. The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**Warnings: Will be slash later on.**

**Hello again to all my lovely readers! Hope you enjoy this chapter! It's quite long, which should make you all happy. Oh, and I have a brilliant new beta, hydraspit, which I think will make you all happy as well, because you won't have to plough through my typos and rambly nonsensical sentences anymore. And she's really speedy, so don't worry, the updates won't slow down. **

**As usual, please review! Lots of hugs and cyber-cookies to all my readers! **

_Every stress leaves an indelible scar, and the organism pays for its survival after a stressful situation by becoming a little older.__  
(Hans Selye)_

**REMUS:**

The trial was set to take place in April, and Remus felt very relieved about that. Surely by that time, he would have had time to settle the conflict in his head? It raged there all the time; in every class, at the table in the Great Hall, in the common room at night. He couldn't sleep at all, and he had to force himself to eat. All the time in the back of his head the words were chanting; family or friends, family or friends, family or friends…

It was a gut-wrenching decision and he just didn't feel equipped to make it. He knew the others were worried. He felt their eyes on him all the time. It was like being back in first year, when he was aware of being watched wherever he went. This time he couldn't even retreat to the library, where he could sit of the floor, read a book and feel close to his mother. That only made it worse, because then the voice in his head would scream _family, family family… it should ALWAYS be family!_

The only time he was free of it was over the full moon when the excruciating pain took over for a while. He wasn't sure it was an improvement. The Marauders stayed with him after every moon, none of them bringing up his humiliatingly child-like behaviour unless they had to, though the knowledge of it was always there anyway, unspoken. Even in that state he was aware of kind voices, gentle touches and gifts of chocolate. At these times, the little voice in the back of his head screamed _friends, friends, friends!_

In what seemed like a frighteningly short time, April suddenly loomed up in his future. He was not really surprised when one night a third-year came by with a message that Dumbledore wanted to talk to him.

"You going to be okay?" James asked, as Remus closed his book and pulled himself to his feet from where he had been curled on the mat in front of the common room fire.

"Yes, of course," he said, trying to smile. "He probably just wants to talk to me about the t-trial."

He knew his slip hadn't gone unnoticed, because suddenly James, Sirius and Peter were looking up from the chess game in front of them and eyeing him with concern.

"I'll go with you," Sirius said, standing up.

"No, Sirius," Remus protested. "He didn't say you could."

"He didn't say I couldn't. It's getting boring watching James beating Pete for the fourth time anyway." He flashed an apologetic grin at the two boys before turning back to Remus. "Come on then."

Remus couldn't bring himself to protest anymore because in truth he was very grateful to have company. They headed out the portrait hole and to Dumbledore's office.

"Butterscotch éclairs," Remus murmured to the gargoyle and it moved to reveal the moving stairway behind.

"Ah, Mr Lupin!" Dumbledore said as they entered his office. "I see you brought Mr. Black here as well? This must be the first time he's ever entered my office without the accompanying words 'whatever it is, I didn't do it'." His eyes twinkled as Sirius looked a little abashed.

Remus glanced around the office and saw that Dumbledore wasn't alone. A tall witch wearing black, violet-trimmed ministry robes sat by his desk. She had slightly frizzy grey hair and an expression of harried kindness on her rather worn face.

"Remus, this is Ms Marjory Oblen, from the Protection of Wizarding Children Department. She is involved in your father's case. Ms Oblen, this is Remus Lupin and his friend, Sirius Black – both second year Gryffindors."

Remus didn't miss the way her eyebrows twitched at the name 'Black' and then even more when she heard 'Gryffindor'.

"Mr. Lupin," she said, standing and shaking his hand. "I am just here to inform you that your father has requested a chance to talk to you before the trial."

Remus blanched, and she obviously noticed because she hastened to add, "You are, of course, under no obligation to accept. And if you do, you will be observed the whole time to make sure he doesn't do anything to hurt you."

If she thought those last words would comfort him she was wrong. Remus felt a sick twisting in his belly and took a little step back. He felt Sirius's comforting hand on his arm, giving it a little squeeze.

"Shall I tell him you don't wish to speak to him?" Ms. Oblen asked, looking at him with concern.

_Family or friends, family or friends, family or friends…_

"N-n-no, I'll t-talk to him," Remus managed.

"Are you sure?" She looked very dubious. "You don't have to."

"Yes," he said a little more firmly. "I'm sure." His face felt hot and damp and he reached up to swipe his hair out of his eyes. He jumped when he heard a little gasp emerge from her mouth and saw her eyes fixed on his wrist where his sleeve had fallen away to reveal his scars. He quickly shook it back, blushing.

"Maybe we shouldn't…" she began, but Remus cut her off with a sharp shake of his head_. Family or friends, family or friends…_

"No, I want to talk to him."

He felt Sirius's grip tighten on his arm and glanced into very worried grey eyes. "C-can I take my f-f-friends?" he asked uncertainly.

Her gaze softened. "Of course, love. Bring anyone you want to. You should be as comfortable as possible. Will Saturday be okay?"

Remus nodded, wanting to get away quickly. "Can I go now?" he asked, hating how small his voice sounded. He knew he was trembling and he knew that Sirius was bound to feel it too.

"Of course. Dumbledore will floo you over next Saturday." She glanced at Sirius who still had a tight grip on Remus's arm. "I didn't know there was a Black in Gryffindor. Much less the heir to the Black fortune."

Remus stiffened, automatically stepping forward a little to shield his friend from any potential insults. Sirius raised his head defiantly. Remus saw Ms Oblan's eyebrows rise a little further at these small actions. "It's not a bad thing," she said hastily. "If I were you, Mr. Black, I would feel very proud. You will do your name justice."

"I highly doubt that, Ms Oblan," Sirius said, and Remus jerked in surprise at the sheer aristocracy that dripped smoothly from his voice. He had never heard Sirius sound so pureblood. "The Black name stands for many things that I am not."

She looked at him for a long moment before she murmured, "Then I look forward to the day when you inherit, and those ideals change with you."

Sirius eyed her for a moment, before dipping his chin in a brief nod and turning towards the door. "Come on, Rem." Remus allowed himself to be tugged away. As they reached the door, Sirius called over his shoulder "See you, Dumbles!"

"Mr. Black, I have asked you before to kindly refrain from using that undignified nickname to refer to me!" Dumbledore called after him, sounding more amused than angry.

"Sirius!" Remus said, feeling rather shocked as they made their way back to the common room.

Sirius laughed at his expression. "You're such a hypocrite, Moony. Don't act all outraged. I know exactly who charmed Dumbles' gargoyle to wolf whistle at him every time he came out of his office last month."

"Yes, but he doesn't," Remus pointed out. "He knows exactly who it is who refers to him as 'Dumbles'. The professors are right. You are incorrigible. I don't know why I put up with you."

"Yes you do," Sirius said looking affronted. "I wrote a whole list of reasons for you to learn the last time you said that. Don't tell me you don't remember them."

"I do," Remus said. "I'm just beginning to wonder if 'Sirius has really cool hair' is going to be enough to convince me this time."

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As he stood outside the prisoner's meeting room, Remus was so nervous that he actually felt nauseous.

"Now, we've confiscated his wand," Ms. Oblan was telling him. "And there will be an Auror in there to prevent him from doing anything to hurt you. I'm afraid these others will have to stand in the room next door and listen and observe through the window. We can't have too many people in there.

Remus glanced up to where the Marauders and Neil Anders hovered protectively behind him. "Okay," he said, trying to keep his voice from cracking.

"Very well, if you will come with me?"

Remus took a deep breath and followed her through the door.

The meeting room was small and very bare. There were only two chairs facing across a table and a grim looking Auror standing in the corner. There was a fireplace to his right, and to his left, the wall was taken up with a large window through which his friends watched him from the other room.

The fireplace flared green and two more Aurors emerged holding John Lupin between them. Remus caught his breath. His father looked terrible; incredibly thin, dirty and pale. His hair was straggly and it looked like he hadn't shaved for at least a few days. His amber eyes were the same, though, alight with the fire of indignation and anger as he looked at Remus.

"Sit," one of the Aurors ordered, shoving him into the chair opposite Remus. He muttered a spell, waving his wand briefly over John Lupin's body and he slammed back against the chair as if pinned there.

"Ready?" the Auror asked, looking to Ms. Oblan.

"Yes, we'll call you when he needs to return to his cell."

They nodded and stepped back into the fire, flooing back to their department. Ms. Oblan moved to stand beside the silent Auror in the corner to give the father and son the illusion of privacy.

"Remus."

Even though he knew the man could not move in his seat, Remus still cringed back at the sound of that voice.

"D-Dad?"

"You did this to me. This is your fault."

It was said with such coldness and certainty that Remus shrank back even more in his seat. He glanced towards the window and saw his friends and Neil alternately glowering at his father and sending him worried looks.

"I d-didn't," he managed to say. "I t-told them not to arrest you."

"You expect me to believe that, you ungrateful creature!"

Remus felt himself trembling violently and clenched his fists hard in his lap, feeling his nails dig bloody half-moon holes into his palms.

Ms. Oblan stepped forward. "I think maybe we should…"

Remus shook his head at her. He knew he had to do this. He had to settle the voices in his head and this was the only way.

"D-Dad. You h-h-h-hurt me," he said, hating how the man reduced him to this pathetic, stuttering, quivering mess.

"You know perfectly well that everything I did was for your own good," John said coldly, his eyes flicking over Remus's body with vicious cruelty.

"N-no…" Remus said. He thought of the day after the full moon. He thought of the way he was now reduced to childish one-word sentences and hugging the stuffed-toy wolf James had transfigured for him when he became upset the last time. A flush of humiliation ran through him, and he felt his resolve harden a bit. "No, you're wrong."

"Excuse me?" John Lupin sneered. "If it weren't for me you would be nothing more than an animal!"

"I really think – " Ms Oblan said, before jerking back as both Lupins snapped '"No!" at her.

"You made me an animal, Dad!" Remus said, feeling his anger uncurl in his chest like a stretching wolf. "Mum made me promise not to be, but you made me one!"

"If it weren't for your mother, I would have you in here in my place," John said, shaking with fury. Remus heard the words the man didn't add. I would have told them you were a werewolf a long time ago, and allowed them to kill you.

"You think Mum would approve of what you did to me?" Remus demanded. "You think she would agree that locking me in the basement and h-h-hitting me and b-burning me were good things to do? No matter what I did?"

"It doesn't matter!" John said, straining against the spell that held him. "She's dead and it's your fault!" he leaned forward as far as he could, speaking in a spiteful whisper. "You killed her."

"I d-d-did not!" Remus said, feeling tears begin to trickle down his cheeks. He ignored Ms. Oblan's helpless expression as she longed to step in. "You know I didn't. It was an accident. I didn't do anything to hurt her!"

"You will get me out of here, Remus," John continued. "I have protected you for years, even though can't stand the sight of you."

"Why _should_ I?" Remus spat. "Why should I do that for you when all you've ever done is h-hurt me?"

"Because I'm your father. We're family, much as I hate you. Blood always comes first. I would have thought you, of all people, would know about the power of blood."

Remus winced.

"There are prices you have to pay for family," John continued, his eyes moving pointedly towards the shoulder where Remus's werewolf bite was hidden. "There are high prices you have to pay. And you belong to me."

Remus felt himself grow still. This was it, then. This was what he had been waiting for: The moment where he had to make the choice. Friends or family. Blood or love. His gaze flicked to the window where his friends were observing the scene with dumb shock and apprehension. His eyes went to Anders. _We wanted to offer our home to you, if you want it._

Slowly he stood and approached his father, whose eyes widened fractionally. He pulled back one of his sleeves – all the way to his shoulder – ignoring the gasps as their observers caught sight of the criss-crossed scars and burns that littered his arm. Of course, some of them were from the wolf, but many of them were given to him by his father.

"Is this the price?" he asked softly, staring into amber eyes identical to his own. "Is this the price of belonging to you?"

John Lupin's eyes widened even more and his breath caught in his throat. He saw something in Remus's eyes he hadn't been expecting. Remus didn't know what it was. Perhaps it was the wolf, though he doubted that. Usually, the sight of the wolf in his eyes sent his father into a fit of hate and rage. No. Perhaps what he saw for the first time was a hint of the human man that was just beginning to form from the broken boy in front of him. Remus wanted him to see that man he was striving to be. He wanted his father to realise just what he had lost.

"Because," Remus finished softly, his gaze flicking once again, very briefly, to the window, "I don't think I am willing to pay that price anymore."

There was deathly silence between them as the words registered, and Remus saw his father's face grow very, very pale. For a moment – just the briefest moment that he would have missed had he not been so close – he saw a flicker of guilt flare in those eyes. Then it was replaced by anger and John Lupin reared his head back and spat at Remus's face.

"Then you can go to hell!" he said viciously.

Remus laughed bitterly, unable to help himself. "I've already been there. Remember? A dark room with blood all over the walls and a poker that burnt me until I screamed for someone to just kill me. You must remember, Daddy. You put me there."

"Monster!"

"I'm the monster?" Remus said, with tearful incredulousness. "It must run in the family then." He turned to Ms. Oblan who stood with her mouth hanging open as she watched the exchange. "I'm going now."

He turned and walked out of the room, not looking back. He wasn't afraid his father would tell anyone his secret. He knew from the helpless fury in John Lupin's eyes that, even now, his mother had her delicate hand gripped around his vocal chords. The man would never tell. And he would rot in Azkaban for a long time as a result. Remus really couldn't bring himself to care.

"Remus?"

His friends stood in front of him looking horrified, helpless, and compassionate. He glanced at Neil who hesitated for a moment, then tentatively held his arms open in offering. Remus knew he was offering more than just a hug. It was another silent invitation to share his family and his home. Remus didn't even pause to think about it. He practically fell into Neil's arms, burying his face into the man's chest to hide the tears burning in his eyes.

"It's okay now," Neil murmured into his hair. "It's okay now."

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The day of the trial finally arrived and Remus wished more than anything that he didn't have to go. Both Angela and Neil were attending as his new guardians, as well as the Marauders and Dumbledore, who was part of Wizengamot, and therefore, the jury.

Remus had never felt as uncomfortable as he did when he entered the courtroom dressed in Sirius's smallest formal robes, as he didn't own any. Although Sirius had grown out of them, they were still a little big for Remus, though the feel of black and burgundy velvet against his skin gave him more confidence. It was a semi-circular room; with banks of chairs rising up in a crescent Their group was ushered to front row seats – though not without a fuss from the James, Sirius and Peter who were almost placed at the back. They faced a little platform on which stood a giant wooden chair with chains attached to the arms and legs. Remus stared at it in horror. Would he be expected to sit on that as they questioned him?

A strict looking witch in black Ministry robes stood up and peered over her oval glasses and around the room. "If everyone is seated, I would like to proceed in presenting the case against Mr. John Lupin to the jury. Firstly, would Mister Remus Lupin, victim of the alleged abuse, please approach the floor?"

After a gentle shove from Neil and reassuring smiles from Angela and the Marauders, Remus stumbled to his feet and down the stairs to the platform. The stern-looking witch conjured a slightly less intimidating chair to sit on beside the chain-covered one, and Remus tentatively sat down.

"I am Grizelda Benatine," she said, turning her firm gaze to Remus. "I will be questioning you under the truth charm. This charm does not work like Veritaserum. It will not force you to say anything against your will. A green light will appear above your head and if you say anything untrue it will turn red. You are not obliged to answer any questions that you do not wish to. Do you understand, Mr. Lupin?"

Remus nodded wordlessly and she waved her wand in his direction. A small bulb of lime-green light appeared and swelled above his head.

"Please state your full name."

"R-Remus John Lupin," Remus said very quietly. The room must have been charmed, though, because it appeared that everyone could hear what he had said.

"Do you know why you are here?"

Remus resisted the automatic urge to point out that if he didn't know why he was here, he wouldn't be here. Instead he murmured, "My father is accused of ch-child abuse."

"Do you support this accusation?" Everyone leaned forward a little at this question. Remus saw that even his friends and new guardians looked interested in what his answer would be.

"I-I never asked that he be accused," he said, feeling himself grow hot and aware that he was trembling. "But I cannot d-d-deny the accusation."

"So your father abused you?" Grizelda pressed.

"Y-y-yes," he whispered.

There was a stirring from the jury's seats.

"John Lupin has been accused of serious neglect, as well as both physical and emotional abuse. Do you agree to this?"

Remus struggled with himself, aware that his answer had to be completely true for the light above his head to remain green. "I don't know what you mean by emotional a-abuse," he said softly. "But he beat me and stuff."

"Please give us a clearer definition," she said sternly, frowning at him over her glasses. "Exactly what did your father do to you?"

Remus felt his trembling increasing and gripped tightly at the arms of his chair, concentrating on not allowing his werewolf strength to splinter the wood. "H-he beat me. He h-h-hit me and k-kicked me a lot. Sometimes he c-cut me with a knife or a spell. He b-b-burnt me. With a poker. And he l-locked me in the cellar under the kitchen and put a d-d-dresser over the top and sometimes he gave me t-t-toast to eat."

He truly hated how he stuttered. He knew if James or Sirius had been up here, they would have spoken clearly and confidently. They were proper Gryffindors. Not pretend ones like himself who was only put there because the Sorting Hat couldn't think of anything else to do with him.

"How often did he feed you?"

Remus shrank back from her firm, emotionless voice. "I d-don't really know. There are no windows in m-m-my bedroom."

"The cellar was your bedroom?" This time, one of her elegant black eyebrows arched a little in surprise, and a wave of muttering ran through the room.

"Yes."

"How long were you down there?"

"Um… if you mean over this C-Christmas, then about a month, I think. But he has k-k-kept me down there before."

"Why did you not report this abuse before?"

Remus flushed and looked down. "I d-didn't know that is what it was. I didn't know I was different. I n-never really saw any other children until I came to school. H-h-he said it was for my own good. To make me into a n-n-normal boy."

"Did you believe him?" she asked incredulously.

Remus shrank back further, feeling all the eyes on him. "Y-y-yes. He was my Dad. Of course I believed him. He said I was all w-w-wrong and needed to be normal." As if a werewolf could ever be that, he added to himself bitterly.

This time the muttering was louder and Remus couldn't bring himself to raise his head and see all those pitying faces.

"Mr. Lupin," Grizelda said, and her voice had taken on a slightly softer note that Remus thought boded nothing good. "Would you mind rolling up your sleeve to show the jury?"

Remus flinched violently and tucked his arms against his sides, looking desperately to Dumbledore and Neil for advice. Dumbledore met eyes with concern, then gave a little shrug and a nod as if to say, "This is your decision."

Slowly, his whole body aware of the werewolf scar that resided on his right shoulder, Remus rolled up his sleeve to the elbow and held his arm out. This time it was not just mutter, but actual exclamations of horror and shock as everyone in the room stared at his right forearm. It was laced with scars and the burns, which were still slightly pink. Madame Pomfrey was working on a potion to help reduce scarring – particularly burn scars – but so far, she had been unsuccessful.

"Can I go now?" he whispered, when it seemed everyone would just sit and stare at his arm forever.

"Yes, yes. I've completed the questioning," Grizela Clearwater said, her voice distracted as she raised her wand to banish the light above his head, her eyes still fixed on his arm. He blushed and rolled down his sleeve then retreated back to his seat.

Grizelda seemed to pull herself together, and she turned to face the jury once more. "There will be a short break, before we return to question John Lupin – the accused."

Remus reached out to grip Neil's arm. "Please can we go?" he begged. "I don't want to s-see him again."

"Are you sure?" Angela asked.

Remus nodded violently. "Please can we just go?"

Neil nodded and stood, wrapping an arm around Remus's shoulder and giving him a squeeze. "Of course. You don't have to watch this."

With great relief, Remus allowed himself to be led from the dreadful room and back to the flooing station to return to Hogwarts. The thought of facing his father again made him feel physically sick.

"You never have to see him again," Angela murmured in his ear as they waited to use the floo. "I promise you that, Remus. Not ever again."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The trial was in the headlines of the Daily Prophet the next day. The picture of John Lupin, being led to Azkaban by two Aurors, depicted an utterly broken man. The eyes were dull, blank and lowered, the hair even more lank and scraggly than it had been before. Sirius, James and Peter hid the article from Remus, and he, in turn, never asked to see it.


	25. High on PepperUp

**Disclaimer: Not mine. The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**Warnings: My reviewers will all be delighted to know be are beginning to hit pre-slash! I know you've all been waiting very patiently ;).**

**Again, thanks to my lovely beta Hydraspit. It's due to her that this chapter and the last are not littered with millions of typos and clumsy sentences as previous ones were. Sorry this has taken so long to update. I had finals this week, and had to actually do some work towards them for a change rather than writing fanfiction. It was a rather depressing conclusion to come to… :P **

_"Worry is interest paid on trouble before it is due"_

_(William R. Inge)_

**SIRIUS:**

Sirius noticed a remarkable change in Remus after the trial. Everything about the werewolf just seemed lighter. When James and Sirius – who were both unable to go more than a few days without pulling a prank – had charmed Professor Slughorn's socks to sing the Slovenian National anthem every time he passed through a doorway, Remus had laughed in a way that Sirius had never seen before. It was helpless and on the point of being slightly hysterical. When the tears had streamed down his small, pointed face, Sirius was not entirely convinced they were only tears of mirth. They also seemed to contain an edge of relief, and perhaps lingering bitterness.

Remus even seemed to walk differently. His shoulders were a little less bent – no longer looking as though he were constantly cowering from notice. His steps – always graceful - now had just the smallest bounce to them.

The biggest change, though, was apparent after the first full moon of the trial. Sirius, James and Peter made their way, as usual, to the hospital wing armed with chocolate. When Madame Pomfrey spotted them, she smiled and waved them towards the door.

"You have to see him today," she said, with an edge of delight in her voice that was rarely heard. "He's just so…" she trailed off and smiled.

The Marauders exchanged looks, rather disturbed by this open display of positive emotion from the woman who usually only tolerated them once they had recited her list of 'Rules of Behaviour in the Hospital Wing That Apply To Everyone and Most Particularly a Certain Group of Young Gryffindor Hooligans Who Shall Not Be Named in the Interests of Preventing Younger Generations From Following in Their Disorderly and Incorrigible Footsteps'. It took Peter months before he could even remember the title.

"You reckon she's high on pepper-up potion?" Sirius hissed to the other two as they edged suspiciously past her. "I heard it's addictive and she didn't even make us recite The List."

"It's a good thing, too," Peter mumbled. "I've forgotten what Rule Thirty-two is again."

"Thou Shalt Not Insert Arabian Fire-Chillies Up The Noses of Unconscious Slytherins," Sirius and James recited in unison.

"Really? I thought it had to do with bedpans and _Fillibuster's Travel-Sized Water-Activated Fireworks_."

"Nah, mate," Sirius said, approaching the door to the private ward where Remus always stayed after the full moon. "That's Rule Twenty-Three. You got the numbers mixed round again."

He pushed the door open and almost jumped out of his skin when his arrival was met with a delighted exclamation of, "_Siri's!_"

He stared towards to the bed to see Remus sitting up sleepily, watching him through drowsy, but shining eyes. He seemed completely unbothered by the bulky bandage on one shoulder, or the healing scratch on one of his cheeks. He couldn't believe this was the same cowering mass of nerves that had greeted them after every other full moon since Christmas.

"I was right!" he said to James. "They've both gone and taken pepper-up overdoses!"

The three of them approached the bed warily. They dropped into the visitor chairs and looked curiously at their currently child-like friend.

"Chocl't?" Remus asked, holding a hand out.

"That's all you want us here for, isn't it?" James said teasingly, as he handed over an unwrapped chocolate frog. "We're your illegal chocolate supply."

Remus stared at him as he chewed messily. "Wolf," he said, using a chocolate-smeared hand to hold up the stuffed toy James had transfigured for him the last time. "James make."

James gave a slightly embarrassed laugh. "Yeah. I did, mate."

"Pete, chocl't?" Remus asked, holding out his hand again to the chubby Marauder. Peter grinned and handed him a piece of chocolate cake. Sirius watched him eat it with a wrinkled nose.

"You do realise I have to clean him up afterwards?" He complained, as the crumbs and icing seemed to spread everywhere. "I still don't know how I got landed with that job."

"Mmmm!" Remus said, licking the icing off his fingers, while the toy wolf under his arm got liberally smeared.

"Why do you reckon he's so cheerful?" Peter asked. "He's never like this. Usually it takes about twenty minutes just to coax him out from under the covers."

"I dunno," Sirius said, watching Remus closely. "But he's been more cheerful all round, huh? And I reckon he doesn't look as beaten up as he usually does after the full moon. I think it has to do with getting rid of his Dad."

"Dad?" Remus froze suddenly, the happy smile dropping from his face and his amber eyes widening in fear. "Where Dad? Where Dad?" He curled into a ball against his pillow.

"Sirius!" James snapped.

"I didn't mean to!" Sirius said, desperately. "It just slipped out. Here Remus, it's okay. Dad's gone. Don't you remember? Dad's gone. He's gone, Moony."

He sat on the edge of the bed and attempted to un-curl the smaller boy who whimpered like a kicked puppy in response.

"He's gone. I promise. No Dad."

"No Dad?" Remus asked in a small voice, turning his head a little to look at Sirius.

"No Dad," Sirius said. "I promise."

Remus hesitated, then uncurled a little and held his thin arms up to Sirius in an obvious plea to be held. Sirius looked down at him awkwardly, feeling a flush rise to his face.

"Damn it, Sirius, give the poor thing a hug," James said. "It's your fault he's like that."

Sirius couldn't have resisted that expression for long anyway. Remus had the most irresistible puppy-dog eyes in the world. Sirius blamed it on the canine in him. He reached out and drew the smaller boy into his lap and Remus clung to his robes and pressed his face into Sirius's chest. Sirius wished the heat in his cheeks would go down, but he was acutely aware of James and Peter watching him. The other times he'd hugged Remus, he had been running on high emotion and hadn't stopped to think about it. Right now, it just seemed embarrassingly intimate. This close, Remus smelt warmly of chocolate and dry, autumn leaves, and his hair was soft and smooth where it brushed Sirius under his chin.

There was a long, awkward silence, and after a while, Remus began to relax his firm grip on the front of Sirius's robes.

"Is he okay?" Peter asked cautiously.

"Moony?" Sirius questioned, relaxing his grip on the werewolf.

Remus gave an unintelligible mumble and nuzzled closer to Sirius's chest. Sirius felt himself blushing even more furiously. "I think he's asleep," he told the other two.

"Right," James said, also looking rather awkward. He picked up one the chocolate frogs on the bed, unwrapped it, and bit off the head. He cleared his throat. "So. You reckon you'll try out for the Quidditch team next year?"

"Yeah, probably," Sirius said, feeling himself relax a little as he latched onto this new, and much less awkward subject.

When it came time to leave, he found himself almost missing the warmth as he lay the sleeping Remus back down on the bed, cleaned him and tucked his toy wolf in beside him. He also knew he would never dream of telling James or Peter that. Ever.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

As the time approached for the end of term, Sirius couldn't help noticing that Remus became more and more jittery. He began to regularly excuse himself from the others' company and retreat to the library to read. He was only half-heartedly interested in the pranks the rest of the Marauders pulled and he had developed a tendency to become so lost in thought that one of the others had to poke him in order to gain his attention again.

Eventually when, for the third time running, Remus excused himself at lunchtime to disappear, Sirius stood up to follow him.

"Are you sure you should?" James asked doubtfully, looking up from where he was scribbling last-minute Potions homework while he ate his lunch.

"I just want to check he's okay," Sirius said. "You know he's been acting really odd recently. Maybe I can help."

"Just don't upset him," James said, pursing his lips and tapping them with his quill. "Maybe he just wants time to himself."

Sirius sighed. "I promise that if he doesn't want to talk to me I'll go away, alright?"

James nodded and went back to his scribbling.

Sirius slung his bag onto his shoulder and headed to the library, ignoring the look Madame Pince shot him as he entered. For some reason he couldn't fathom – and it definitely didn't have anything to do with a re-staging of the 1475 Battle of the Goblins, a mini fort built out of all the books in the Herbology section of the library and a misplaced _incendio _charm – she wasn't that fond of Sirius or James.

Unfortunately, after a quick look around, it became obvious that Remus wasn't in the library. Sirius left, wondering where else his werewolf friend would be. He jumped when he felt a tap on his shoulder and swung round to see the red-haired Lily Evans standing behind him.

"If you're looking for your friend, Lupin," she said, "he's outside under that willow tree by the lake. He looked a bit upset, actually, so I thought I should tell you."

Sirius felt relieved. "Cheers, Evans."

"You didn't do anything to upset him, did you?" she asked. "Only I've noticed that he's always a bit sickly, and I read about his Dad in the paper."

"No," Sirius said, feeling rather indignant. "Not that it's any of your business since you're not his friend, but I don't know what's wrong with him. That's why I was looking for him."

She gave him a suspicious look, then waved her hand dismissively. "Whatever, Black. I have no idea why he chose you and Potter as his friends. He seems quite nice and you two are just a nightmare."

"You won't say that when you're married to James," Sirius muttered as he turned away.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, Evans."

He ignored her indignant splutters and jogged off in the direction of the main doors and outside. Sure enough, he could see Remus's little hunched figure under the willow tree.

"Moony?" He said as he reached the other boy and flopped down beside him. "Okay, mate?"

Remus gave him a rather irritated look, then sighed. "How did you find me?"

"I have my secret ways," Sirius gave Remus his best enigmatic smile.

"Sirius."

"Okay, Evans told me."

"Huh. She looked at me funny when I came down here."

"She seemed to be worried about you, Merlin only knows why. She doesn't even know you."

"I guess she was just trying to be nice," Remus said vaguely, running his fingers over the page of the book in his lap and staring out over the lake. Sirius rolled over onto his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows to examine his friend. Remus's face looked tired and strained, even though it was still a few weeks until the next full moon.

"What _is _wrong, Rem?"

Remus looked away. "Nothing."

"Oh, don't give me that. I know you well enough that I can see something is bothering you."

"I just…" Remus hesitated, dropping his book to the side and drawing his knees up to rest his chin on them. "They don't know me very well," he said eventually.

"What? Who?"

"The Anders."

"Oh." Sirius frowned, unable to see where this conversation was leading. "Well, summer will give them a chance to get to know you better, I guess."

"I know," Remus said. "That's what I'm worried about."

Sirius sat up and stared at his friend in surprise. "What?"

"What if they get to know me properly and don't like me? What if the werewolf thing is too much for them to handle? You know I go all weird and childish after the full moon now. And there's lots of blood and broken bones and stuff. What if they wish they had never adopted me, but they're stuck with me?" Remus's tone grew quieter and as he spoke, until it ended in a miserable little whisper.

"Oh, Moony!" Sirius said, draping an arm over the werewolf's shoulder. "Is that what you've been stressing about all this time?"

Remus nodded, avoiding his eyes.

"Anders knows you," Sirius pointed out, knowing that the only way to make Remus understand was by using logic. "You've written to him for almost a year. And they knew what it meant to adopt a werewolf long before they decided to. Don't forget that Neil's an Auror and Angela works in the Magical Creatures Department. You couldn't have found more suitable people if you tried. And as for the childish thing after the full moon…" Sirius shrugged. "We've told you before – you're actually kind of cute. You're no problem at all as long as you're given chocolate. They'll love you, Remie! Especially Angela. I bet she'll spoil you rotten."

Remus huffed disbelievingly. "'Remie?'" he said after a while.

"Dreadful isn't it? Ridiculously saccharine, yet condescending at the same time. You've got to love it."

"Believe me, I don't. Do you really think all that other stuff is true, though?" Remus turned desperate, hopeful eyes to Sirius.

"I wouldn't lie to you about something like this, mate. And hey, if it all goes wrong and you hate it there, I bet you could stay with James if you wanted. Or Pete. Not with me, though. You would hate my family."

"I'm sure I wouldn't."

"Believe me. Everyone hates my family. _I _hate my family. They're impossible not to hate – like ear-wax flavoured jellybeans."

Remus shook his head, smiling. "You always cheer me up," he said. "Even if you end up saying daft things like that." He reached up to touch the hand-shaped pendant that hung round his neck and Sirius smiled.

"We could run away and live on the streets if it's too horrible," he suggested. "I would come happily. The only reason I stick around at home is for Reg. We'd have to take him with us."

"We're only thirteen. We couldn't live on our own."

"Oh don't go all sensible on me. It would be fun!"

"No Sirius. It would be a complete disaster."

"Oh please!" Sirius wheedled, pouting. "You know you want to!"

Remus just shook his head and cast a quick _tempus _spell. "Come on, you idiot, we'll be late for Potions."

Sirius followed Remus back up to the school, noting with satisfaction that most of the strain had left the other boy's face.

"What on earth are you doing?" Remus demanded, staring at him as they walked. Sirius was contorting his arms into odd positions in an effort to reach over his own shoulder.

"Patting myself on the back, obviously."

"Obviously," Remus said, rolling his eyes.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The weeks leading up to the end of term flew by in a rush of end-of-year tests and reports, and James's and Sirius's determination to get at least eight good pranks in before the holidays started. In those weeks, it was not unusual to see Snape storming by with a lime green Mohawk and a message reading "I heart Gryffindors" emblazoned across his forehead; or a group of Hufflepuffs who couldn't do anything except waddle to the hospital wing when their entire bodies except for their heads and feet had been transfigured into giant pompoms.

"They look quite cute like that," James and Sirius defended themselves when Remus demanded to know why they had targeted innocent Hufflepuffs. "Very huffy and puffy."

Eventually, however, the Marauders found themselves on the train heading back home for the summer. Sirius tried to keep himself upbeat, but the thought of returning to Grimmauld Place made his stomach churn uncomfortably. The only thing he was looking forward to was seeing Regulus again. He tuned out of Peter and James's excited conversation about the merits of hexing Snape one last time before they arrived at the station, and stared out of the window.

"Hey, mate," James said, catching his attention by cuffing him round the head. "Want to come and find the snack trolley with us? Pete and I are starving!"

"No, that's okay," Sirius said listlessly. "I'm not really hungry."

The others stared at him in concern. "_You're _not hungry?" Peter demanded incredulously.

"No. You guys can go on without me."

"Are you okay, Sirius?" James asked.

"Yeah," Sirius said, smiling weakly at his dark-haired friend. "Just – you know – going home and stuff."

"Ah." James nodded in sudden understanding. "Well, Pete and I'll bring some for you and Moony anyway. In case you both get hungry later." The two slipped out of the compartment.

"You're not hungry either?" Sirius asked, turning to look at Remus who was also watching him with a look of concern on his face.

"Yeah. Just – you know – going home and stuff," Remus said teasingly, winking at Sirius. Sirius felt his mouth pulled into a smile of its own accord

"Git," he said fondly. "It'll be okay, thought, Moony. The Anders will love you."

"It'll be okay for you as well," Remus said, reaching out to grip Sirius's shoulder. "I'll write to you loads, I promise." He studied Sirius's face for a long moment. "I've never seen you this down before, you know. It's weird. What happened to Sirius Black – Gryffindor prankster extraordinaire?"

"I've shut him away for now," Sirius said. "He gets me into trouble at home."

"Ah, the inner marauder," Remus said nodding. "If you have one they have a tendency to do that."

The door swung open again and James and Peter returned with their arms full of sweets.

"Lots for everyone," Peter said, dumping a pile of chocolate frogs and cauldron cakes in both Sirius and Remus's laps.

"There is no woe so bad in this world that it cannot be cured by chocolate," James added, throwing himself down next to Sirius and munching on a liquorice wand.

Half an hour and twelve chocolate frogs later, Sirius was inclined to agree. Especially when he saw Remus's face brightening slowly as he ate and James and Peter regaled them with stories of their quest for the snack trolley. Suddenly, the idea of going home didn't seem as ominous as it had. He would have his friends to write to and his little brother to keep him company. His heart only sank the smallest bit when the train arrived at platform 9 ¾ and he saw the bitter-faced figure of his mother waiting for him.


	26. SUMMER HOLIDAYS SECOND YEAR

**Disclaimer: Not mine. The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**Warnings: Pre-slash**

**Sorry this chapter has taken so long. My internet packed in on Saturday and we've only just had it fixed. Hope you enjoy this chapter. The next one will be coming soon! Review, please! I am still a review-junkie. **

**SUMMER HOLIDAYS:**

Dear Moony,

I know I only saw you short while ago, but I thought I would write to find out how your first full moon at the Anders went. I know you were worried about it. They thought you were cute, didn't they? DIDN'T THEY? Deny it all you like, but I know it's true. I hope all that worrying was for nothing. Please write and tell me how things are going.

Everything is okay here. My family are as awful as ever. I put laxative potion in my Grandmother's porridge because she called me good-for-nothing-Gryffindor-runt-who-should-have-been-drowned-at-birth. Strangely, Mum wasn't very happy with me. Regulus has offered to send letters for me until I can get out.

I've had such brilliant news! My family (Mum, Dad and Regulus) are going back to Italy with my Grandmother in two days. She didn't want me because for my afore-mentioned Gryffindor-runtishness, so I have been left behind. I am supposed to stay at home with the house elves and study proper pureblood behaviour, but James has offered for me to go and stay over at his house. When she finds out, my mother will NOT be happy, but I don't care. It will be worth it to stay at the Potters for three weeks. We'll write to you and tell you what we're up to.

I'm already missing school and having all the Marauders together. I hate the dark. I can't wait to see you again, Remie (sorry, I can't help myself).

From the Black family's favourite white sheep,

Sirius

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Reg,

Could you post this letter for me? It's to Remus Lupin. Did you hide more candles? The ones in this barrel are almost run out, and I hate sitting in the dark. I tried calling to you, but I think Mum put a silencing charm on the cellar so you couldn't hear me. Thank goodness she didn't think to stop us sliding notes under the door.

At least it will only be for two more days at the most. Then you'll all be off to Italy. I wish you weren't going. How can I look out for you if you're in a different country?

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Sirius,

It's your own fault you're in there, you Gryffindor idiot! I told you not to do that to Grandmother. You knew you would be found out. If you hate it so much in the cellar why do you _keep _making Mum angry?

I wish you were coming with me to Italy. I waited all year for you to come home, and now I'm not even going to see you for most of it. At least I'll be coming with you to Hogwarts next year. I posted that letter to James Potter yesterday, but the one to Remus Lupin will have to wait until tonight. Mum has taken to reading my mail before I post it, so I'll have to sneak it off.

There are more candles in the barrel under the wooden wheelbarrow thing in the far right hand corner. I had to try and keep them as hidden as possible. I think Mum suspects I help you while you're in there.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Dear Sirius,

What have your parents done to you! What do you mean 'when I get out of here?' Where have they locked you? Have they hurt you? Is this why you were so protective of me when my father hurt me? Are you going through the same thing? Why didn't you ever tell me your parents did this to you? Sirius, please be okay. If they do anything – I mean ANYTHING – to hurt you, I'll come round there and do something we'll _all_ regret. But them especially. If they've locked you anywhere dark I'll never forgive them.

I am doing absolutely fine. You were right. I think the Anders did know what they were getting into by adopting me. They didn't mind about me being like a kid after the you-know-what, though I didn't feel as comfortable with them as I do with the Marauders. I'm probably just not used to it. It's all a bit hazy as usual, but I think I actually managed to get under the bed and hide there for most of it. How embarrassing!

I'm glad you can go to James's. His mother seems really nice. She helped me get into the station in first year. You'll have fun there, I think.

Please write and tell me you're okay. I hate to think of them there abusing you. I hate that word, but now I can see why you all used it. It's different when it's happening to someone you care about. You want to do everything you can to keep them safe. Sorry if that sounds sappy.

With worry,

Remus

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Dear James,

I know I am going to see you in about forty hours, so it's pretty pointless to write to you, but I'm worried I upset Moony. I didn't mean to. I just mentioned that I got locked up as punishment and he completely over-reacted! He sounded really angry. I can't help thinking about those Death Eaters, or those Slytherins in the corridor. If he suddenly turns up at our house raving mad and attacks my parents they're going to find out what he is, and we all know what will happen then. They're pureblood maniacs. He probably wouldn't survive to get to the Ministry. They have _silver swords_ hanging over the fireplace.

Plus, I think he's really worried and hurt that I never said anything before. I think I really did upset him, and I hate doing that. Don't mention anything about my family if you write to him. I'm going to write him a letter saying everything is fine.

I'll see you in a short while, mate,

Sirius

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Hey Moony,

Listen, you completely over-reacted about my family. They're nothing like your father at all. They don't hit me. And they only punish me if I do something wrong. It's not bad. Reg takes care of me, I promise. It's nothing like what happened to you. It _isn't _abuse, Moony. I know why you reacted that way, but you really don't need to worry, okay? I'm going to James in a short while, and they've already let me out. I nicked some floo powder and will go from the fireplace in my parents' room.

We should all meet up in Diagon alley at some point. We'll need to get school supplies, but we can also go to the giant Zonko's there and to the ice-cream parlour. Have you ever been there? You'll love it.

Anyway, must go. I can hear my family getting ready to go. See you soon!

Sirius

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Sirius!

Overreacted? What has your harpy of a mother done now? Did she lock you in the cellar again? Did she hit you? Remus is NOT overreacting! Just because you don't have it as bad as him, it doesn't make it less bad. I told you last summer – your family have no right to do that to you.

But I won't say anything to Moony. I agree that he shouldn't know what they do to you. It will just upset him more.

By the way, you did get your parent's permission to come didn't you? I don't want you to get punished if they come back and find out you came here without asking. You did didn't you, Sirius?

See you in a few hours,

James

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Of course I did, mate. What do you take me for? One and a half hours… yippee!

Sirius

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Moony,

Don't tell James I sneaked out. He thinks I got permission. Don't worry, though. My parents will never know. I threatened the house elves, so they won't tell. They know all about my pranks and don't want to get on the wrong side of one.

Sirius

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Hey guys!

Remus wrote and told me that Sirius is at your house, James. That's so unfair! You get to have fun and practice Quidditch for the try-outs next year and stuff, and I have to be at home with no other Marauders and only my incredibly annoying cousins from Portsmouth here for company.

They're from Mum's side of the family, so they're Muggles, which means that WE CAN'T USE MAGIC ALL SUMMER! Mum has to cook all the meals the Muggle way (not a good thing, believe me), and I have a sixteen year old girl cousin with an obsession for really flowery perfume and the colour pink staying in my room while I sleep on the sofa in the lounge.

Please, please can we meet up in Diagon Alley soon? I'm not sure how much more of this torture I can take without a dose of the Marauders. I'm only glad I wasn't Muggle-born and had to live without magic my WHOLE LIFE until I got to Hogwarts.

Hope to see you soon,

Peter

PS: If you are able to send you reply by Muggle post, that would be good. Only, we are having difficulty explaining away all the 'tame owls' in our area. My address is on the other side of this letter.

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Hey Pete!

Prank them! That's the advice of Messrs. Potter and Black, Marauders extraordinaire. Sirius says to put some hair-growth potion in your cousin's flowery perfume. He says it worked like a charm on Bellatrix, and that you get the added bonus of seeing your parents trying to explain it away to the Muggles.

Don't worry, Moony wants to go to Diagon Alley as well. We'll go as soon as our Hogwarts letters come. That should be in a few days.

Mrs. Potter just read over our shoulders as we were writing this and said you're not to take any of our good advice for pranking your Muggle cousins. She has also added that it is NOT good advice. The inner Marauder obviously comes from Mr. Potter's side of the family.

Anyway, mate, we'll write to you again soon,

James and Sirius

PS: How many stamps do you put on a Muggle letter? And do you really just drop them in those red box things and hope like hell someone will come by and get it to the right place? Muggles are so strange. We had to ask James's Dad how to work Muggle post. He's an Auror, but he took Muggle Studies at school. It still took him ages to remember the difference between a Muggle letterbox and a rubbish bin. They're both round with slits in them. We posted it in the red one, but if we don't get a reply, we'll know to go for the black one in future.

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Dear James and Sirius,

I hope you are both having a brilliant time. Neil says to send his sympathies to your parents because he couldn't imagine having to put up with the two of you in a confined space for a whole summer without going insane. Angela just tutted and said you can't be that bad. She obviously needs to get to know you better.

Peter wrote and told me about that hair-growth potion you told him to put in his Muggle cousin's perfume. You really shouldn't give him ideas like that. It's a bit cruel to her. Imagine if you didn't know about magic and hair suddenly started sprouting all over your body? You would be terrified. You should have at least encouraged him to use Muggle pranks if she's that annoying. There are some good ones, you know. Neil and Angela live in a Muggle neighbourhood and there are loads of their shops around here. You'll be amazed at the things they manage to do without magic.

Anyway, I am having a good time here. Neil and Angela's house is very small, but they have converted the basement for me (and it's not my bedroom! I only have to go in there to transform!). My bedroom is brilliant! None of the furniture is scratched or smells like blood and they said I could put posters on the wall if I like. I would, but I don't really have any.

You should see Angela when she's on holiday. Remember those giant butterflies she wore in her hair that time at school? Well, apparently, that was her dressing conservatively so she didn't unnerve us. She's got all sorts of weird and wonderful clothes. There's this really long cape with built-in wind so it billows dramatically all the time, and these silk scarves that slither around like snakes, and broaches that change colour and all sorts. She can't wear them around Muggles, but the rest of the time you have to approach her with caution in case you're attacked by her stockings or something.

I can't wait to see you guys again. My Hogwarts letter came yesterday. Can we meet up soon?

Remus

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Moony!

Here is a poster for you! I made it myself. I took a picture of James when he got knocked off his broom by a practice bludger and blew it up for you to stick on your wall. Note the way he lands on his back with his feet in the air. Did you know he had red boxers with little snitches on them? I laughed myself silly. If you tap it with your wand twice, he falls off in slow motion, which is even funnier. He made me promise to burn the photo, so I did, but I copied it first, obviously.

We're planning on going to Diagon Alley on Thursday. Are you able to come? At about eleven?

James is coming, so I better send this quickly. He looks mad. I think he knows what I'm doing. Hehe!

Sirius

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Remus!

Don't you DARE stick that thing on your wall! I can't believe he DID that! He made another one and stuck it to the wall in the kitchen with a really powerful sticking charm and won't tell me how to counter it. Mum and Dad won't help. They just laugh a lot and say that it was an ingenious piece of magic to make me go in slow motion when you tap it twice. I think they're still punishing me for the porridge bath. It was brilliant, though Moony! The water comes out the taps as water, but as soon as someone sits in the bath it turns into porridge. You should have heard Mum screaming. Sirius and I were in hysterics. It took us ages to figure out how to do it. Thank goodness I'm good at transfiguration.

So are you coming on Thursday? I removed the gag from Sirius long enough to hear that he told you about us going to Diagon Alley. I hope you can.

James

PS: Don't stick that poster on your wall!

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Hey guys!

I can come to Diagon Alley! It will be such a relief! Sheryl (my annoying cousin) is driving me CRAZY! I looked for some hair-growth potion in our cabinets, but we don't have any. Maybe I can get some in Diagon Alley. Or something better. She spilt pink nail varnish on my carpet! Right in the middle! And it has glitter in it. And my whole room smells of girl. And she has this voice that gets more and more high pitched when she gets excited. She had the cheek to ask me if I went to a special needs school the other day just because I didn't know how to use a Muggle toaster. She was serious as well! And she calls me 'Petey' and tells me I should go on a diet or I will never get a girl and will be lonely for the rest of my life. If they all act like her, it won't be a great loss. I can't wait to get away for a bit.

Peter

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Dear James and Sirius,

I can come! I'll see you on Thursday at eleven. We have a new DADA teacher again, no surprise. I wonder what they're like? I'll meet you at the floo station by the Leaky Cauldron.

See you then,

Remus

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Dear Moony,

We're so glad you and Pete came on Thursday. It wouldn't have been the same without you. Sirius says he told you that you would like the Florean's ice cream place. We don't think we've EVER seen anyone consume that much double chocolate fudge ice cream in one sitting. How do you stay so little and skinny?

We tried out that bubble-belch potion from Zonko's on Mum and Dad this morning. We spiked their morning coffee. It was so funny! They swelled up and started floating round the kitchen, and the only way to get down is by belching these huge lilac bubbles. Dad did it straight away with no problem, but Mum floated round for ages because she refused to do something so unladylike. Eventually, she made us all go out the room so she could belch in peace. Sirius, Dad and I were sitting on the main stairs laughing so hard we could barely breathe. Sirius and I had to re-paint three second floor bedrooms by hand as punishment. It took us all day, and we're exhausted now. But it was totally worth it!

We have included some of that itching powder we bought with this letter. Please use it on Angela or Neil. You can't call yourself a proper Marauder if you go a whole summer without pranking anyone. Write and tell us how it goes.

Only a couple of weeks until school starts again!

Love and chocolate frogs,

James and Sirius

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Hi Guys!

I'm writing to all of you in this letter. I'll copy it and send it to Remus as well. I finally got my own back on Sheryl! You were right, James and Sirius. That trick-perfume was BRILLIANT. I put it in her perfume bottle just before she went out with all her horrible, giggly friends (my neighbours – every single fluffy, giggly girl around here seemed to gravitate towards my house this summer. It's like Sheryl is a magnet for them. When they all get together they giggle and squeal and it's really unbearable).

Anyway - that trick perfume. To Sheryl, it smelt of roses and lilies, but to anyone else who is with her, it smelt like an open sewer. It was awesome! She couldn't figure out why all her friends were avoiding her and trying to hold their breaths. I felt a bit guilty after a bit, though, so I threw out the bottle from her room when she was away so she wouldn't wear it again. She can't help being an air-headed, dippy cow I suppose.

Peter

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Hey Pete!

That's AWESOME! I'm so glad it worked. It must have been very funny. Did you get a photo? James and I are planning on making a Marauder scrapbook with pictures and descriptions of all the pranks and things we pull in it. Remus is going to do something with that itching power, he says.

I have to go back home in a couple of days. But at least then it's only a week until school starts. I can't wait. And Regulus will be coming as well!

Sirius (and James)

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Dear James, Sirius, and Peter (who I will copy this letter for),

Well, I pulled my obligatory summer prank. I put some of that itching power into Angela's talcum power yesterday. I do have to say it was very funny. She was sitting at breakfast and started squirming around and scratching. Neil kept asking her what was wrong and she kept saying 'nothing' and shooting me suspicious looks when I tried not to laugh. Then suddenly she leapt up with a yell and ran and jumped in the shower with all her clothes on and started scrubbing away like anything. Anyway, Neil and I were standing outside the bathroom laughing our heads off because she looked so funny. She was wearing those snake-scarves and they were putting up a great fight against getting wet.

Then suddenly she looked up and saw me laughing and yelled 'REMUS LUPIN! YOU GET BACK HERE!' and leapt out the shower and started chasing me all round the house, dripping like anything. She chased me round and round until I ran out into the garden and then she chased me up a tree and I didn't dare come down for ages. You could tell she thought it was funny because she was giggling away madly as she stood at the bottom waiting for me to come down.

Anyway, when I finally needed to go loo so badly I had to come down, she hexed me so I grew bright green polka dots and made me cook dinner that night. Do you know my cooking is as bad as my potions making? I don't think I'll be getting that punishment again. I thought it tasted quite nice, but fried lasagne didn't seem to appeal to either Neil or Angela.

Anyway, I'll see you in a week! I can't wait for school again. Much as I love it here, I miss having the Marauders around. I have included some photos for you. Neil took them, actually. He has stuck the one of Angela looking all pink and soggy and running round the house screaming at me on the wall in the living room. She is not impressed. The one of me with polka-dot skin eating fried lasagne is stuck up in the kitchen as a warning to never let me cook again.

From,

Remus


	27. Eyes in the Dark

**Disclaimer: Not mine. The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**Warnings: Pre-slash**

**Thank you all for the lovely reviews I got for the last chapter. Welcome to the Marauder's third year! Be prepared for the usual mix of pranks, angst, pre-slash etc. etc. Remember – reviews inspire me to write faster so keep them coming! **

_Night time sharpens,_

_Hieghtens each sensation._

_Darkness stirs_

_And wakes imagination._

_Silently the senses_

_Abandon their defences._

(_From Phantom of the Opera's 'Music of the Night')_

**SIRIUS**

Sirius knew he should have been prepared for the fact that Kreacher would tell his mother about his trip to James's house. Yet, some small part of him had hoped that he hadn't become so ostracised from his family that even the house elves would no longer obey his commands. It was perhaps that – more than the punishment that followed – that hurt him the most.

He knew the moment his family returned. His mother's unmistakeable screech filled the house the second she stepped over the grate of the living room fireplace.

"_Kreacher!_"

It was followed by Kreacher's snivelling tones as he shuffled into the living room. Even though he was hidden up in his bedroom, Sirius could picture the house elf sidling up to his mother in a bow so low that his pointed nose brushed the carpet.

"Yes, Mistress?"

"Get us some tea _right now_, elf!"

"Yes, Mistress."

"And shut your ears in the oven as punishment for taking so long to answer me!"

"Yes, Mistress. Mistress, about the ungrateful master upstairs…"

After that, Sirius buried his head under his pillow and stopped listening. He knew what was coming – the accusations, the screaming, the punishment.

It was an hour later now – an hour filled with the specialised punishment that only a house elf on the order of its mistress could dispense. They used their magic to inflict the feeling of whips across the back of the child without leaving a mark. Sirius was very familiar with the sensation by now, but it still hurt every time.

He knelt on the floor in the kitchen, gasping and crying out as the invisible lashes rained down on his back. Even though it was one of the other house elves carrying out the punishment, Sirius could hear Kreacher chucking in the corner, his bat-like ears still smoking from being shut in the oven door. At that moment, he hated the house elf more than he had hated anything in his life. He swore to himself that if Kreacher was ever passed on to him, he would make his life a living hell.

He was almost glad when it was finally over and he was shoved, crying and gasping towards the cellar and shut in. That was until he realised that the candles hidden for him by Regulus had run out and his brother had not had the chance to hide any more.

The pain – that only lasted while the punishment was being carried out – was gone, so even that didn't detract his attention from the fact he was alone in the damp, mouldy darkness. Sirius tried to fight the wave of panic that rose in his chest. He _hated _himself for being afraid of the dark. It was a stupid, childish, irrational fear, but it was a fear nonetheless. He felt his way over to a wine barrel in the middle of the room and sat on it, drawing his legs up and wrapping his arms around them.

Eyes – that was what he feared the most. The thought of _eyes _in the dark. Eyes that could see him and everything he was doing while he was completely blind and vulnerable. He swore he could feel them fixed on him now, trying to find out whether he could see; to assess exactly how helpless he was. He tried to glare back to show he wasn't afraid, but he had no idea where to look. He imagined the owners of the eyes creeping closer and closer and closer…

"Sirius!"

Sirius gave a cry of alarm and toppled off his barrel with a crash.

"Sirius? It's me! Regulus!"

Sirius turned his face blindly towards where the voice was coming from. He could see the tiniest sliver of light that came in under the door.

"R-R-Reg?"

"Yes. She was so mad she forgot to put the silencing charm on. I'm sorry I couldn't give you more candles."

Sirius crept closer to the door, his heart hammering. The sound of his brother's voice caused the staring-eyes to back away a little. He knelt down and tried to peer under the door.

"Reg?"

"Yes. I've told you already. It's me."

"No candles?"

"How can I get you candles? The door's locked."

"Yes." Sirius pressed his face closer to the precious light that filtered in under the door. "Reg?"

"What?"

"How long will I be in here?"

"I dunno, Sirius. She was _really _mad. She probably won't let you out until school starts."

"But that's a _week_!"

"I know. I'm sorry. I _did _tell you not to wind her up, you know. I _always _tell you and you never listen, you daft Gryffindor."

"A _week_!"

There was a short silence from the other side of the door, then "I have to go now. If Mum, or one of the elves, finds me down here there will be hell to pay."

"No wait! Reg!"

"I _can't_! You know I can't."

"But – "

"I'm sorry, Sirius."

Regulus shuffled to his feet and Sirius heard his footsteps moving away, up the stairs and to the kitchen. Sirius slowly turned from the light coming under the door and stared apprehensively into the room, where he knew the staring-eyed creatures began approaching him once more. His breathing grew fast and erratic as they drew nearer. Closer, closer, closer…

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Sirius couldn't remember anything being as wonderful as the sight of the Hogwarts Express standing at platform 9 ¾. The large scarlet steam train represented freedom - his return to the only place he really considered home, and the only people, aside from Regulus, who he had ever really loved. It had been worth it, he kept telling himself. That last week of hell had been worth the three wonderful weeks with the Potters.

His mother was so angry she refused to speak to him – even to say goodbye or threaten him about what would happen if he misbehaved. Sirius hung a little way away from his family, watching as Regulus was smothered with motherly affection as he stood awkwardly by his new trunk, clutching the cage of his new owl. Sirius told himself he did _not _feel jealous that he had not been given a pet. It was his own fault – not Regulus's – that his family hated him.

"Sirius?"

Sirius jumped as a hand touched his shoulder and swung round. Remus looked at him in alarm. "Are you okay? You look very pale."

"I'm fine," Sirius said, not even having to fake the smile he gave. He felt his whole mood lift at the sight of his friend. Remus had grown a little over the summer, but not nearly as much as Sirius or James who were both shooting up like weeds. His hair was a little longer than it had been – the tawny locks flopping forward into his amber eyes so he had to shake them out in a rather canine gesture. Sirius smiled at the sight. Remus would never have allowed himself to do anything that hinted at his wolf side without automatically shrinking back in horror, before this summer. Obviously, the Anders were good for him.

"I'm so glad we're back," Remus said, putting his trunk down and sitting on it. He looked pale and there were dark shadows under his eyes. Sirius remembered that the full moon was the next day. "I missed you guys," Remus added, looking a bit abashed at the statement.

"I missed you too," Sirius said and his heart gave a happy squeeze when he saw Remus's face brighten in return.

"Shall we go to the train?" Remus asked.

"I'm just waiting for my brother." Sirius gestured towards his family. His mother caught sight of him and her eyes shifted to Remus. A perfect pureblood sneer formed on her face and she deliberately turned her back. Remus looked stricken.

"What did I do?" he asked, an expression of guilt alighting on his face. "Did I do something to upset her?"

Sirius sighed and ruffled his friend's hair affectionately. "You didn't do anything, Moony. Honestly. Have a bit of faith in yourself. That's just the patented Black sneer designed and used by my family for generations whenever they are forced to observe Gryffindors."

"She looks at you like that?" Remus looked at Sirius in growing alarm.

Sirius felt something tighten inside him as he saw the worry in Remus's eyes. "Don't worry about it, Rem. I don't have to see her for ages."

Remus opened his mouth to say more, but Regulus finally broke free of his mother's clutches and headed towards Sirius. "Mum says you're not to corrupt me," he said, rolling his eyes. "She says if I end up in Gryffindor, there will be hell to pay for you."

Sirius smiled and treated his departing mother's back to a rather crude hand gesture. "If you end up in Gryffindor, I will consider my corruption a success," he said to his little brother, giving him a wink.

"I don't want to be in Gryffindor," Regulus said. "It looks painful."

"Nonsense!" Sirius said airily. "This is Remus. Remus, this is my brother, Regulus."

Remus stood up and held out his hand to the first year. Regulus shook it shyly. "Don't worry if you get into Slytherin," Remus told the smaller boy reassuringly. "Not everyone who comes out of it is evil, no matter what your brother or James say."

Sirius groaned. "You have too much faith in people, Moony."

"Slughorn was Slytherin," Remus pointed out as they headed towards the train dragging their trunks behind them.

"I rest my case," Sirius said, pulling his trunk up the train steps and reaching down to help Regulus with his.

"He's not evil, Sirius," Remus said reprovingly. "Ambitious, but not evil. You only don't like him because he favours Snape."

"Exactly!" Sirius said, as though Remus had been agreeing with him.

Remus sighed and gave up as they searched for a compartment.

"Hey guys!" a familiar voice called to them from down the corridor. "In here."

Grinning, Sirius bounded towards the compartment dragging his trunk while Remus and Regulus trailed behind him.

"_James!_" He grabbed his friend in a headlock and ground his knuckles into the messy black hair.

"Nng! Sirius, get off!" James's muffled voice yelled as his hands made ineffectual swipes at his attacker.

"Sirius, leave the poor guy alone!" Remus edged round the two of them and rolling his eyes at Sirius's triumphant expression. "Don't mind them, Regulus. You get used to it after a while. Come in. This is Peter Pettigrew and the one who's going purple from suffocation due to your brother's homicidal tendencies is James Potter."

Regulus also edged around the tussling boys in the doorway and smiled at Peter. "Hello."

"Oh cute!" James exclaimed, finally breaking free, flopping down on the seat opposite Regulus and planting his feet on Peter's lap. "Look. It's a pint-size Sirius."

"He has a name, James," Remus said.

"Yeah – Mini-Siri!"

Sirius grinned as his brother blushed. He felt a rush of gratitude towards his friends for treating his brother kindly even though they knew he would most likely end up in Slytherin. He had never doubted Remus, but he hadn't been sure as to how James would react.

"So… worried about the Giant Squid?" Peter asked Regulus, kicking James's feet off his lap.

"Er… should I be?"

"You should," James said solemnly. "I heard that three first years didn't make it over the lake last year."

"_What?_"

"Yup," Sirius said, shaking his head. "Once minute – happily paddling away in their boat. Next minute – Squid food."

"Really?" Regulus's grey eyes turned towards Remus, much to Sirius's amusement. Apparently his little brother had already guessed that Remus was the most trustworthy Marauder of the group.

"Don't listen to them," Remus said reassuringly. "The Squid almost always flings back anyone who falls in."

"Remus, you always ruin my fun." Sirius pouted and dropped down onto the seat between Remus and his brother.

"Well, you're being harsh."

"That's what little brothers are _for_."

"What do you mean 'almost always'?" Regulus asked Remus, obviously not willing to let the subject drop until he was sure he wouldn't end up as Squid chowder.

"Sometimes they swim to safety," Remus reassured him. He stood up to push his trunk under the seat and swayed a bit before dropping back beside Sirius.

"Are you okay, Moony?" Peter asked, watching him.

"Yes, just getting over the flu," Remus said, sending a quick glance in Regulus's direction. Peter often spoke without thinking of the consequences.

"_Oh_," Peter said, light dawning on his face, "that _flu _you have."

"Anyway," James said quickly, to avert a potentially dangerous situation, "Sirius and I were practising Quidditch over the holidays. We're going to try out for the house team."

"I don't think I'm good enough," Peter said mournfully. "Remember the time I crashed in first year."

"Yeah, that could only be described as _chronically_ bad flying, Pete," Sirius agreed, grinning as he remembered.

"Well, I didn't see it in time to stop."

"Peter, it was the wall of _Hogwarts_. Five billion tons of solid stone_ castle._" In spite of his words, James couldn't keep the grin off his face.

"I had my eyes closed so I would forget I was off the ground."

"Idiot."

Sirius opened his mouth to say more when he felt a weight drop onto his shoulder. He glanced sideways and felt tawny hair brush his cheek. Remus's eyes were closed; his lips parted a little as he slept. Sirius caught a trace of that chocolate-and-autumn-leaves smell he remembered from the time he held Remus in the hospital wing. A wave of protectiveness flooded his chest.

"I always wonder how he does that," James said, looking at Remus with interest.

"What?" Peter asked.

"You know," James said, "Just dozing off wherever he is. One minute he's lecturing us on proper sneaking methods, then suddenly – _boomph_! Out for the count."

"He does that often?" Regulus asked, though when Sirius glanced towards his brother he noticed the grey eyes were looking at _him _curiously, rather than Remus. For a moment he was confused, then he realised that, in the Black family, physical contact was very rare. It must look odd to see his older brother sitting comfortably while his friend slept curled up against his shoulder. He would have pulled away in embarrassment, but he didn't want to disturb Remus.

"Remus gets ill a lot," he said to his brother defensively. "He needs to sleep sometimes."

"He _doesn't _look very well," Regulus conceded, studying Remus'ss pale, sleeping face. He glanced back at Sirius. "It's okay. I know you can't help it – you're a Gryffindor."

James and Peter looked bemused by the comment, but Sirius relaxed and smiled at Regulus. He knew what Regulus was really telling him. _I don't judge you for losing your Black-family coldness. I don't hate you for being a Gryffindor._

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Sirius couldn't claim to be very surprised when the hat called out "Slytherin!" a few moments after his brother put it on. As soon as the hat was removed, Regulus's eyes sought Sirius'ss and his expression was full of apology. Sirius smiled at him reassuringly, making sure to hide the fact that his heart was sinking rapidly in his chest. He hoped desperately that the Slytherins wouldn't corrupt his brother, but he knew that Regulus was one of life's followers – a little like Peter. He loved them both, but he wasn't sure that either could stand up under the pressure of their peer's opinions. Peter was lucky that his own particular brand of bravery had got him sorted into Gryffindor, but Regulus was at risk. Sirius wondered how long it would be before his brother turned his back on him just like the rest of his family.

He felt a hand squeeze his arm and look into James'ss worried face. "He'll be okay, Sirius. We won't prank him."

"It's not that James," Sirius said. "It's just that… I think the Slytherins will change him."

"Have faith in him. He's your brother – Pint-size Sirius."

"You don't understand!" Sirius said. "He looks like me, but he's _not _me. I'm scared for him."

"He'll be fine," James insisted.

Sirius looked away and amber eyes met his own across the table. He saw understanding in them and compassion. Remus knew the cruelties of the world. He had no illusions about family or loyalty. Remus understood, and knew that sometimes there was nothing you could do but accept the burdens the world chose to throw at you and carry on.

That understanding was almost more painful that James'ss naïve reassurances.

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"Hey, Moony," James said, as the four of them unpacked their trunks in their dorm later that night. "Guess what I found in the Potter library last week?"

Remus looked up from where he was stashing chocolate into his bedside cabinet. "What? And don't tell me you were in there looking for some light reading because I won't believe you."

James grinned and pulled a couple of books out of his trunk. He bounced over and flung himself onto Remus's bed. "No," he agreed. "It was raining outside and the library is the biggest room in the house. I needed to practice my flying."

"You were _flying _in the library!" Remus asked, shocked. "That's terrible, James!"

"Yeah, Mum thought so too." James looked mournful. "But before I was caught, I was floating up near the Magical Creatures section and I spotted some werewolf books that you didn't have and that weren't in the library. I brought them for you to read if you like."

Sirius smiled as Remus's face lit up and he reached for the books. "Oh, James... thank you!"

"They're old ones," James said. "That's probably why you couldn't buy them. Also they're quite nice about werewolves, which is probably why the library doesn't have them."

Sirius scowled at that thought and wandered over to join his friends on Remus's bed. Peter nicked a chocolate frog from the open drawer of the bedside cabinet and sat beside Sirius. Remus was so involved in one of the books he didn't even notice.

"So what does it say?" Sirius prompted, leaning over to try and read the page Remus was on upside-down.

"It's brilliant." Remus turned the page. "This chapter goes into much more detail about werewolf psychology than any other book I've read. Most of them focus on the physical aspects of being a werewolf." He paused, reading. "Listen to this – _A werewolf will only target humans to attack as their natural prey. Animals are safe from werewolf attacks and the werewolf can sometimes even accept their company. A study by Oswen Debonair in 1643 indicates that having an animal to keep it company could even aid a werewolf through the pain of its transformation, though most studies were inconclusive as animals were found to be unwilling to spend time in a confined area with a creature that is so clearly a powerful predator._"

"We could get you a dog," Sirius said, feeling a surge of inspiration as Remus read. "To keep you company so you didn't hurt yourself so much!"

Remus sighed and shook his head. "Weren't you listening? I would frighten a dog. Or any animal. I wouldn't want to do that – have them sitting there cowering in the corner while I paced and howled and raved."

Sirius scowled. "Well we have to do _something_ to help you!"

"You _are_!" Remus said. "All of you." He hesitated for a moment, then reached over into his own trunk and pulled out one of his own well-read werewolf books. He paged through it for a few seconds and Sirius didn't miss the fact that the smaller boy's shoulders were very tense. "Listen to this – _Even in human form, part of the mind will always have canine overtones. It is not uncommon for a werewolf to form a 'pack' with those humans who he/she cares about_."

There was a long silence between the four of them and Remus looked down into his lap with a flush of humiliation on his cheeks. Sirius felt a smile begin to blossom on his face. "We're your pack?" his voice cracked embarrassingly

"I'm sorry," Remus mumbled, without looking up. "I can't help it. It's Moony's influence."

"Sorry?" James said. "Why? This is _brilliant_! We're not just the Marauders – we're also a werewolf pack We're the best friends ever! Nothing will ever come between us."

Remus looked up in disbelief. "You don't mind?"

"Why would we mind?" asked Peter, putting an arm around Remus. Sirius felt an inexplicable twinge that it wasn't _him _who had his arm round the werewolf. Wasn't it _his _job to hug Remus? Even as he thought this, he knew it was ridiculous. The others had just as much right to show their affection as he did.

"I thought that maybe you would feel weird," Remus explained. "It's sort of animalistic – being part of a pack. I thought it might freak you out."

"Well," Sirius said, reaching out to pat his knee, "you thought wrong. We think it's awesome."

Remus smiled that same smile that he had used when they had told him they were his friends in the library almost a year ago. Unlike most of his smiles it lit up his whole face, filling his eyes and seeming to chase away the ever-present shadows for just the briefest moment.

"Thank you," was all he said. But it was enough.


	28. Transfiguration and Pincushions

**Disclaimer: Not mine. The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**Warnings: Pre-slash and insanely cute hedgehogs**

_Animals are such agreeable friends - they ask no questions, they pass no criticisms._

_(George Eliot)_

**REMUS:**

Remus trailed his friends to breakfast the next day feeling decidedly un-hungry. It was the full moon that night, and his nervousness about the upcoming year meant that it would probably be a rough transformation. He was aware of Sirius's grey eyes – still heavy with sleep - flicking worried glances at him throughout breakfast as he picked listlessly at his food.

"All right, Moony?" Sirius asked eventually, putting an arm around Remus'ss shoulders.

"'Course," Remus said, ducking his head so the other boy couldn't see quite how pale and strained he looked.

"Maybe you should take the day off and rest in the dorms," Sirius said.

Remus forgot about hiding his face and stared up at Sirius in alarm. "No! It's the first day of classes. I'm not going to miss it."

"Merlin, Rem," James said, leaning across the table as he caught sight of Remus's face. "You _do _look like hell."

"Worse than usual," Peter agreed.

"Cheers, lads," Remus said, shrugging off Sirius's arm and feeling surprised when he found himself missing the protective warmth. "You certainly know how to raise a bloke's self esteem."

"You really do look bad, Lupin," said a bossy voice from beside Peter. "Maybe you should go and see Madame Pomfrey."

Remus glanced up to see Lily Evans studying him with wide green eyes. Her friend, Alice, who was sitting next to her, seemed as confused by her concern as the Marauders.

"Butt out, Evans," Sirius said. "It's none of your business."

"It _is _my business!" she said, flicking her long red hair over one shoulder and scowling at Sirius. "He's a fellow Gryffindor who's ill. Don't you remember Professor McGonagall's lecture at the beginning of first year? 'Your house will be like your family.'"

"_We're _his family," Peter put in timidly. He never felt comfortable talking to girls, but his bond with the Marauders seemed to outweigh this fear. Remus tried not to show quite how touched he was by the words.

Lily opened her mouth to say more but was interrupted by Professor McGonagall, who was handing out timetables. Lily took hers, but reached out to stop the professor from moving on. "Wait! Professor!"

McGonagall turned questioningly. "What is it Miss Evans?"

"Don't you think Lupin should go to the hospital wing?"

Professor McGonagall turned to glance at Remus and her face grew concerned. "Are you alright, Mr. Lupin? Maybe you _should_ go to the hospital wing." Remus didn't miss the way her eyes flicked up to the charmed ceiling as if the daytime sky reminded her of that night's full moon.

Remus flushed at all the attention, ducking his head again. "I don't want to. I want to go to lessons."

"If you're ill, you shouldn't push yourself."

"I'm not, I'm fine!" Remus was unable to keep himself from snapping. Moony was close to the surface and didn't like this invasion of his human counter-part's privacy.

McGonagall sighed. "Very well, but you may leave any of your lessons if you feel unwell." She moved on to continue handing out timetables. Remus dropped his head into his hands, feeling bad about snapping when he know Professor McGonagall had only been trying to help.

"See what you did!" Sirius said, glaring at Lily.

"Sirius, lay off," James said. "She was only trying to help."

"Oh, don't stand up for her, James. She's just a nosy busybody."

"I'm _not_!" Lilly said indignantly. "I'm –"

Remus didn't wait to hear the rest. The raised voices were making his head hurt and his stomach was churning at the sight of all the food. Stupid start-of-term nerves - they always made him worse. He got up from the table without a word and headed towards the doors.

"Moony!" He heard Sirius hurrying after him. "I'm sorry, mate. I know you hate it when we argue."

Remus shook his head. "I'm just not in the mood right now, Sirius."

"I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

Remus always found it odd that Sirius apologised to him so easily. Getting an apology from him for anyone else was like drawing blood from a stone. He would usually just laugh it off, or cuff whoever it was over the head in a friendly way.

Remus glanced up at Sirius who was still eyeing him with worry.

"It's true, though, Rem. You really don't look good."

"I can't help what I look like, Sirius. Bad genes, you know."

Sirius smiled. "You know that's not what I meant. You're a very handsome bloke. Give it a year or so and all the girls will be flocking 'round you."

Remus gave a disbelieving snort as he looked at his friend. Sirius – although he remained oblivious to the fact – had already attracted the attention of a large portion of Hogwarts' female population. His smooth black hair fell in gentle waves to his ears and his aristocratic features and dark-lashed grey eyes gave him an unconscious sense of elegance – something neither James, Remus or Peter could ever hope to imitate. Everything about Sirius screamed high-class pureblood - until the moment that the wicked Marauder's grin would alight on his face.

Remus was very aware that he was small, skinny and scarred. He knew that his clothes were too shabby, his eyes too big, and his manner too shy to ever come close to Sirius's sex appeal.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Sirius asked, still studying him with interest.

Remus flushed. "Whatever, Sirius." He pulled out his new timetable and studied it. "Look, Transfiguration first. If you're done with breakfast shall we make our way there?"

Sirius gave an eloquent shrug. "Okay, then." They started down the corridor in the direction of the Transfiguration classroom. "You just wait, though. They'll be flocking, I tell you. _Flocking_."

"What're you talking about now?" Remus asked in exasperation, still looking at his timetable.

"The girls!"

"Honestly!" Remus shoved his timetable in his pocket and shook his head. "You know as well as I do that even if they were – which they won't be, by the way – I couldn't do anything with them."

"Why?"

"Well, what if they found out about – you know?"

"Well, don't tell them."

"Yeah, because that's a great basis to start a relationship on. Don't tell them about half of who I am."

Sirius was uncharacteristically silent for the rest of the way to the classroom. They were the first ones there and headed automatically for their seats at the back of the room. After a while Remus became worried by the lack of his friend's usual chatter. He looked over to Sirius and saw a crease of worry between his arching black brows.

"Hey," he said, putting a hand on the other boy's arm. "Don't worry about it. Really."

"Bit it's _unfair_."

"Story of my life. It really is okay. I promise."

"_We _understood. I'm sure you'll find a girl who will as well."

"I know," Remus said agreeably. "Of course I will. That's why you mustn't worry."

Sirius's expression relaxed a bit and he smiled. "Of course you will."

The door opened and more students began to enter. They shared this class with the Ravenclaws, so they were not the only ones who came early. Sirius and Remus began pulling out their own parchment and quills. Remus was glad he had been able to put Sirius's mind at rest. He hated having people worry about him. Any white lie was worth it to see that disturbingly adult expression of concern disappear in relief.

And Remus knew it had been a white lie. Actually, probably closer to a black one. He knew he would never allow himself to become that close to anyone. He couldn't put that burden on some poor girl's shoulders.

No, he could never allow that to happen. Forming the Marauder pack had been bad enough. He'd really had no right to bind his friends to him in that way. They didn't mind now, but the duty they felt to protect him and care for him would one day come back on them with a vengeance.

"Hey, lads!"

Remus was shaken out of his thought by the arrival of James and Peter who both eyed him with worry. He forced a smile for them and was relieved to see them grin back.

"Alright, Moony?" James asked, as he and Peter slid into the seat in front of Remus and Sirius.

"Of course."

"Settle down ladies and gentlemen!" Professor McGonagall said from the front of the class. "You're in third year now, and I expect your work to improve accordingly."

Remus sat back in his chair and began to take notes.

"This year, we'll be moving on to study Transfiguration in animals and humans. As I'm sure you are all aware, Transfiguration on a living creature is much harder to perform that on an inanimate object. Potions that transfigure people or animals are usually very complicated and spells that do the same are even more difficult. Observe."

With that, she promptly changed into a tabby cat with spectacle-like markings round its eyes.

"Bloody hell!" Frank said from the front of the class. "Are we going to learn to do that?"

Professor McGonagall changed back and looked towards Frank. "_Language_, Mr. Longbottom. That was an animagus transformation. It's a very difficult process to complete and takes years of study and some very complicated spells and potions. There are very few wizards and witches who become animagi and those that do have to be registered at the Ministry. We will _not _be learning that this year, or any other year for that matter. I was merely demonstrating one type of human transfiguration. You, of course, will all be starting much smaller. Today you will be attempting to transfigure hedgehogs into pincushions."

She pointed towards a large basket against the wall by her desk. "Please come and _gently _collect a hedgehog. I will not tolerate cruelty towards these animals. You will take them back to your desk and attempt the transfiguration. The wand movement is an upward flick and a clockwise circle. The incantation is _ericius mutatio._ Observe."

She leant over the basket and gently lifted out a hedgehog. She placed it on her desk and demonstrated the spell. "_Ericius mutatio!_" The hedgehog turned into a tan-coloured pincushion with silver pins stuck all over it. "_Finite incantatem!_" The hedgehog reappeared looking rather surprised.

"That is so cool," Sirius murmured to Remus.

"Poor hedgehog," Remus said in return.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Come on, you idiot."

Remus followed the dark-haired boy to the front of the class and peered down into the basket. The hedgehogs – seeming to sense the presence of a dark creature – all made a bid to scramble to the other side of the basket as quickly as they could. All except one, that is, who peered sleepily up at Remus for a few seconds before opening its tiny mouth in a yawn.

Remus leant down and picked it up gently. Its spines tickled the palms of his hands as he held it against his chest. It didn't seem frightened in the least. Remus was rather unnerved. He had never met a creature that wasn't at least wary of him before - even post owls eyed him with suspicion.

"My hedgehog's not frightened of me," Remus said as he and Sirius returned to their desk.

"So?"

"Well, most animals are. Except for some magical ones. And some of the braver dogs."

Sirius looked at him in amazement. "What? Even when you're not all wolfy?"

Remus flushed and glanced around to make sure no one had overheard. "Well, obviously it's worse when I am," he said, "But even now. Look."

He leaned towards Sirius'ss hedgehog and it eyed him with alarm before promptly curling up in a protective ball. His own sat quietly on the desk in front of him watching with sleepy interest.

"Maybe it's a magic hedgehog?" James said. He and Peter had swizzled their chairs around so they could listen to the conversation as well.

"Maybe it's suicidal?" Peter added.

"It doesn't look suicidal, just bored," Sirius said.

Remus reached out to stroke the animal and smiled when it butted its head towards his hand.

"I think it's just fallen under the Moony-charm," James said.

"Gentlemen, if you don't begin practising, I will separate you!" Professor McGonagall said, coming over to see how they were doing and frowning when she saw a distinct lack of pincushions.

James and Peter hurriedly reached for their own hedgehogs that had been waiting patiently on their tables and put them on Remus's and Sirius's desk. The hedgehogs spotted Remus and curled up defensively.

"I feel so mean," Remus said.

"It's not your fault, mate," James assured him. "Watch this. _Ericius mutatio!_" The hedgehog in front of him shimmered and changed into a pincushion.

"It's still furry," Sirius pointed out.

"I'd like to see you so any better, Black."

"Fine." Sirius cleared his throat and waved his wand at his rolled-up hedgehog. "_Ericius mutatio!_"

The hedgehog's spines turned silver, but otherwise there was no change. "Damn!"

"See!" James sniggered. "Not as easy as it looks."

When Peter tried, his hedgehog uncurled a little and its legs disappeared. By this time, James had managed to rid his own of fur.

"Come on, Moony, give it a go," Sirius said.

"I don't want to," Remus said, pulling his hedgehog protectively into his lap. "What if I hurt him?"

"How do you know it's a 'him?'"

"I can smell that he is."

The other stared at him. "Really?" Peter asked.

"Yeah," Remus said, blushing. "I can. Especially with warm-blooded creatures."

"That's a bit weird, you know," Peter said.

Remus flushed, wishing he had kept his mouth shut. It _was _weird – weird and primitive and animalistic. He bit his lip and avoided their eyes, keeping his gaze fixed on the animal in his lap. It appeared to have gone to sleep.

"It's not weird!" Sirius said, and Remus glanced up in time to see him shooting Peter a poisonous glare.

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that, Moony!" Peter said, looking suddenly horrified. "I didn't mean it meanly! I just…" he looked at a loss for words.

"It's okay, Pete," Remus said, still avoiding their eyes. "I know you didn't mean it."

"You can use my hedgehog," Sirius offered, giving it a shove in Remus's direction, and causing it to roll up tighter.

"N-no. I'm not really in the m-mood." Remus _hated _how he stuttered at times like this. It reminded him vividly of his father's trial. It didn't help that he was feeling ill and drained due to the approaching full moon. His hedgehog butted his hand gently, as if sensing his need for comfort. Remus wondered if it really was a bit magical.

"I really _am _sorry," Peter said, his voice thick with guilt. "You know I never think before I talk."

"It's really okay," Remus forced himself to look up at his smallest friend. "It's the m-moon. Not you."

"Do you want to leave?" James asked. "McGonagall said you could."

Remus shook his head wordlessly.

The others regarded him with worry, but when Remus refused to say any more, they reluctantly went back to their work. Remus sat quietly beside Sirius and stroked his hedgehog's small head. He didn't look up when Sirius reached out and squeezed his hand, but felt his mood lighten a little. He squeezed back and Sirius shot him a quick smile, before removing his hand and attempting the spell again.

By the end of the lesson, both Sirius and James could do the spell perfectly, though Peter's pincushion had a hedgehog's head and his pins were brown.

Remus couldn't bring himself to try the spell at all. Professor McGonagall noticed, but said nothing.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

That evening, it was with even more reluctance that usual that Remus pulled his outdoor cloak out of his trunk and got ready to head out to the hospital wing to meet Madame Pomfrey. Peter, James, and Sirius were playing exploding snap on Sirius's bed, meaning that the bedclothes currently looked rather singed.

As Remus got ready to go, Sirius rolled off his bed and put a hand on the werewolf's shoulder. "Do you want us to come with you to the Hospital Wing?"

Remus was tempted, but shook his head. He didn't want any of his pack members in danger of detention for being out after curfew.

"We won't get caught. We'll go under James's invisibility cloak."

"No," Remus said, pulling on his cloak. "I'm fine, Sirius. Just…will you look after Hamish for me while I'm gone?"

"Hamish?" James asked.

"Um…" Remus gestured towards his bed and blushed a bit when Sirius peered down and let out an incredulous laugh when he spotted the hedgehog sleeping comfortably on Remus's scarlet pillow.

"You nicked your hedgehog from Transfiguration?"

"Not exactly," Remus said, ducking his head.

"What do you mean, 'not exactly'?" James asked, grinning and wandering over to pick up the hedgehog. Hamish wriggled a bit in protest, but settled again in the messy-haired boy's arms.

"I _rescued_ him," Remus said.

Sirius laughed. "Rescued him from what?"

"A life as half a pincushion," Remus said. "The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs had Transfiguration after us. Can you imagine what might happen to poor innocent hedgehogs in their hands?"

"He has a point," Peter said. "I would hate to have Snivellus dripping grease on me as he attempted to change me into a pincushion."

The others screwed up their faces at the image. "That's vile, Pete," Sirius complained.

"I have to go." Remus glanced towards the rapidly darkening sky out the window.

"We'll watch Hamish for you, mate," James said, carrying the hedgehog over to Sirius's bed where the exploding snap cards still smoked gently.

"Don't you dare play exploding snap with him in your lap!" Remus said in alarm.

"I won't!" James said. "What do you take me for?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

Remus ducked the tickling hex James sent his way, gave the others a wave, and headed out to the hospital wing to be escorted to the Whomping Willow.


	29. A Hedgehog Named Hamish

**Disclaimer: Not mine. The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**Warnings: Pre-slash and insanely cute hedgehog/post-moon Remus**

**""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""  
**

_"That's what a friend is for: When you're lost in darkness and searching for the light, to help you through those lonely nights, when everything around you fails - just hold out your hand, and I'll come running. That's what a friend is for."  
(Marty Keith)_

**SIRIUS:**

Sirius could not sleep that night. He kept thinking about Remus alone in that blood-soaked room, screaming with the pain of the transformation. Every time he closed his eyes, he pictured Remus'ss little pointed face lengthening and spouting fur. He could see those wide amber eyes slowly losing their human sanity; those slender hands warping, cracking, changing into clawed paws that then proceeded to rip and slash and hurt. As always, he thought about blood. Blood and moonshadows.

Since finding out about Remus's condition, Sirius rarely slept well on full moon nights. This night, however, was even worse than usual. He knew it was going to be a rough moon for Remus. He knew from reading bits of the books James brought from Potter Manor that the more agitated a werewolf was before the transformation, the more likely his wolf side was to become angry and frustrated.

Sirius groaned into his pillow and rolled over again restlessly in his bed.

"Sirius?"

He stilled as he heard James's quiet whisper from the bed beside his.

"Yeah?"

"Can't sleep?"

"No."

"Nor me."

Sirius sat up and pulled aside his curtains. He could just make out the messy head peering short-sightedly at him through the curtains of the bed beside his.

"Come here so we don't wake Pete," James suggested.

Sirius climbed out of his bed and padded over to James's. He sat on top of the covers and sighed as he looked at his friend. James cast_ lumos_ and a silencing charm so they wouldn't wake their fellow Marauder before putting his glowing wand back on the bedside table.

"Yeah," James said, "me too."

"'You too' what?"

"I'm also worried about him. He was upset today and we know that's never a good thing."

Sirius huffed, wondering if he was really that easy to read, or whether James just knew him too well.

"It's not hard to guess what you're stressing about," James said, sounding amused. "You _always _worry about him."

"It's not my fault," Sirius said defensively. "He's small and… and… eccentric and he needs people to worry about him."

"I know. No need to bite my head off. Why d'you think I'm still awake?"

There was a rustling from the basket James had transfigured from an old shirt that now sat on his bedside cabinet next to his wand.

"Look, you woke up Hamish!" Sirius accused as he reached over to pick up the basket and draw it into his lap. The hedgehog blinked up at him in the light of James's wand.

"We should take him with us tomorrow morning," James said. "I bet Moony'd love to see him."

"We'll have to sneak him in," said Sirius. "I don't think Madame Pomfrey likes animals in her hospital wing."

"True. But they don't call us Marauders for nothing! Come on - time to plan Operation Smuggle Hamish."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Honestly, mate."

"What?"

"Why don't we just wrap his basket in your invisibility cloak?"

James pouted. "Well, that was no fun."

"Idiot."

"Git."

"Snivellus."

"Oi! That was below the belt."

"Whatever, mate." Sirius yawned, surprised to feel a wave of tiredness was over him now that he knew he had someone to share the burden of worrying. "Budge over. I'm going to sleep."

"Hey!" James protested, as Sirius proceeded to replace Hamish, lie down, steal all his covers, and shove him to the edge of his bed. "This is my bed. If you're going to sleep, do it in your own."

"C'n't be both'red," Sirius mumbled.

"Get off, you lump."

Sirius ignored him, thinking about Remus and wondering what the wolf was doing to him now.

"Fine!" James said, standing up and stalking over to Sirius's bed. "Just know that I'll remember this the next time you want to borrow my invisibility cloak."

Sirius didn't answer, staring out the half-open curtains as the full moon hovering white and vicious in an indigo sky.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Peter, OW!" Sirius hissed, as the four of them made their way to the hospital wing early the next morning.

"Well, if you're going to put your toe under my foot it's going to get stood on," Peter said grumpily. He was still half asleep and if he hadn't been sharing the invisibility cloak with the two dark-haired Marauders, Sirius was sure he would have walked into a wall by now.

"We're almost there, lads," James said. "Good thing too. I don't think I could bare you huffing down my neck for much longer, Sirius."

Sirius deliberately huffed harder, causing James to give an unmanly squeak and stumble out from under the cloak.

"Hey! Watch Hamish!" Sirius made a grab for Hamish's basket as it almost slipped from James's hands.

"It would have been _your _fault if I'd dropped him!" James snipped. They reached the doors to the hospital wing. "Here, pass me the cloak."

Sirius and Peter ducked out from under the cloak and Peter passed it over for James to wrap around Hamish's basket.

"What if he suffocates?" Sirius asked.

"It's only for a short while."

They headed into the hospital wing. There was no sign of Madame Pomfrey, so they went straight to the door of Remus's room and opened it. They stopped in surprise when they spotted Angela and Neil Anders already inside.

James clutched the covered basket to his chest and moved behind Sirius.

"Um… hello, Professor," Sirius said awkwardly. "We didn't know you'd be here."

"We thought he might like us to be here his first full moon back," Angela said. She looked at them curiously, taking note of the chocolate in Sirius and Peter's arms. "Do you come here every full moon?"

"Er… yes," Sirius said. "Didn't Madame Pomfrey tell you?"

Neil opened his mouth to reply when a small voice called out, "Sir'us!"

Everyone in the room turned to look at the bed. Remus had evidently been hiding under the covers until now. His tawny hair was mussed and static as two large amber eyes peered over the edge of his duvet.

"Hey Moony!" Sirius smiled, coming over to sit on the edge of the bed. "How are you today?"

"Moony hurt!"

"I know, I'm sorry."

"He talks to you?" Angela asked in amazement. "He usually just hides when we're here."

"Well," Sirius said, biting his lip. He didn't want them to feel hurt by Remus's unresponsiveness. "We've been with him for lots more than you have. It took him time to get used to us. Also we…" He glanced over at James and Peter who shrugged, then nodded resignedly. "We're kind of his pack."

"I'm sorry?" Neil said, blinking in amazement.

"His pack. Moony calls us his pack."

"Sir'us!" Sirius turned to look at Remus again. He was rather horrified to see the smaller boy holding his bandaged arms out for a hug. It was bad enough with James and Peter watching. He really didn't want Angela and Neil to see.

"Pack!" Remus said. "Pack come. Cho'lt! Wolf…James make." He dug round under his covers and pulled out the rather bedraggled looking toy wolf. He waved it to James, then whimpered and clutched at his well-bandaged side as a wound was aggravated. "Sir'us…" he whimpered, crawling painfully out from the covers and into Sirius's lap. Sirius flushed, but put his arms around Remus and drew him close, careful not to hurt him. Remus seemed to be a solid ball of bandages this morning.

"This is amazing," Neil shook his head as James and Peter joined them on the bed. Remus reached out to grab a fistful of James's shirt with one hand and nudged Peter with a foot. "I've read about werewolves forming packs, but it's not really that common."

"Choc'lt!" Remus said to Peter imperiously, seeming unaware that he was sitting on a whole lapful that Sirius hadn't had time to move before he'd gained an armful of werewolf.

Peter unwrapped a chocolate frog and passed it over to Remus, who grabbed it and munched it messily.

"Are you sure that's good for him?" Angela asked uncertainly. "It was a really rough moon, and Madame Pomfrey said he should eat well and get rest."

"He does eat well, believe me," James said. "The amount of chocolate he consumes is scary. It's never affected him before." He grinned suddenly and reached out to unwrap Hamish's basket. "Hey, Moony. Look what we have here."

"Choc'lt?" Remus asked.

"No, Hedgehog."

"'Edge'og?"

James lifted Hamish out of the basket with a flourish. Hamish's small, pointed face turned towards Remus and he struggled in James's hands. James put him on the bed and Hamish began to shuffle towards the werewolf.

"Okay, I _very _much doubt Madame Pomfrey allows hedgehogs in her clean hospital wing." Angela looked towards her husband for support, her scarves fluttering around her nervously.

"Probably not," Neil agreed. "But look at Remus'ss face."

Remus's whole face had lit up at the sight of the hedgehog. It was an open, beaming smile that was never seen on his face on a normal day. It was free from the shadows that always seemed to hover in his eyes. He reached out a sticky hand towards Hamish.

"Gently, Rem," Sirius said, reaching out to guide Remus'ss hand to softly stroke the hedgehog. Remus giggled as Hamish butted his hand.

"Watch this," James added. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and muttered a quick spell. Hamish's spikes turned brilliant red and gold.

"_'Edge'og!_" Remus cheered, clapping his hands. Sirius was sure he could feel him buzzing with delight, even through all the bandages. Affection flooded him and he ran one hand up and down Remus's back, causing the smaller boy to lean into him and sigh, his eyes beginning to droop.

"He'll go to sleep soon," Peter told the Anders. "Then we have to go to class."

"You boys are good friends," Angela said. "There are very few thirteen-year-olds who would support their friend through everything you have."

"We're his pack," James said, lifting Hamish back into his basket without bothering to change his colour back.

Sirius felt Remus's head droop against his chest as he dozed off.

"_Tempus,_" James murmured, waving his wand. "We have to go, guys. We've got Herbology."

Peter reached over to pull back the covers of the bed and James helped Sirius shift the sleepy werewolf onto the bed. Thankfully, Remus hadn't eaten enough chocolate to merit the full clean-up operation that usually followed. Sirius'ss lap – now covered in melted chocolate – was another story. He made a face and Angela laughed, giving a wave of her wand to clean up the mess.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"So will we see you again?" Peter asked the Anders.

"Probably not," Neil said, reaching over to brush away a strand of hair from Remus'ss sleeping face. "We both have work. We just came to check he was all right." He smiled. "It turns out we didn't need to worry about him."

The Marauders shifted in embarrassment, suddenly aware that any grown-up, masculine status they had managed to accumulate was rapidly depleting.

"We're his pack," James said again, as if that was their get-out-of-non-manly-jail-free card.

"Yeah," Sirius and Peter echoed.

Neil grinned, his boyish face showing that he knew exactly what was going through their minds. "You don't have to be ashamed of caring."

"We're not!" Sirius said.

"And we've got Herbology," Peter added. "If we don't hurry, we won't have time to get Hamish back to the dorm."

They hurried out of the hospital wing and to the Gryffindor tower.

"Well, that was weird," Peter said breathlessly and he climbed through the portrait hole.

"That was embarrassing!" Sirius said. "I can't believe he climbed into my lap like that. In front of the Anders as well."

James and Peter laughed as they went into their dorm and grabbed their bags.

"It's your own fault," James said. "You encourage him."

"I do not. You guys know he always starts it."

"Yeah, but you sit there and cuddle him and stuff."

Sirius blushed furiously. "I do _not _'cuddle' him. I _hug _him. Manly hugs. And what – you think I should just shove him off?"

"Nope," Peter said, grinning. "We never said anything of the sort. You're the one complaining."

Sirius sighed. "He was bad today, lads. I could feel bandages all over him."

They fell silent for a while as they made their way back out of Gryffindor Tower and towards Greenhouse three for Herbology.

"I wish we could do something for him," James said eventually.

"We can't," Sirius said not bothering to keep the bitterness from his voice. "If we were there, the smell of humans would make it even worse."

"Maybe we could put Hamish in there with him?" Peter suggested. "He's not scared of Moony and that book said animals might calm him."

"Peter!" Sirius said. "You can't do that to a poor innocent hedgehog. He may not be scared of Remus in human form, but I bet anyone would be scared if they saw a great big, slavering wolf coming towards them. Besides – you saw the furniture in that room. He might accidentally slash him."

"If only Hamish was bigger," James said. "And we could explain to him that we were trying to help Remus. What we need is a big animal with a human brain." He brightened. "Hey, do you reckon centaurs would work? I hear there are some in the Forbidden Forest and maybe we could bribe them."

"With what?" Peter asked. "Dung bombs? Besides, they're half human as well."

"Animals with human brains…" Sirius murmured. Suddenly he stopped as an idea hit him. He felt his heart leap up in his chest and he sucked a deep breath into his lungs. "_McGonagall!_" he gasped.

"What?" James asked. "Sirius, are you insane?"

"McGonagall changes into a cat!" Sirius said. He started leaping around his friends excitedly. He grabbed James's shoulders and shook him. "Don't you see?"

A couple of fourth year Ravenclaws eyed him oddly as they passed the Marauders in the corridor.

"You want to ask McGonagall to go stay with him in her cat form?" Peter asked dubiously.

"No, you git!" James said, his eyes also lighting up. "_We _would!"

"Huh?" Peter looked completely lost.

"We'll become animagi!" Sirius said impatiently to their chubby friend. "Honestly, keep up, Pete."

Light dawned on Peter's face. "But isn't that really hard?"

James sighed. "Yeah. Remember she said it takes years and some really complicated spells and potions."

"But we'll still try, won't we?" Sirius said jigging up and down with delight.

Both James and Peter smiled. "Of course," James said. "If anyone can do it the Marauders can."

They started walking again, though it would probably be more accurate to describe their gait as bouncing.

"We're going to be the best pack _ever_," Sirius said.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

They returned after their last lesson of day to find Remus wrapped up in a blanket on a sofa in front of the common room fire. Lily Evans was sitting beside him, talking to him in a hushed voice, one arm around his shoulder.

Sirius frowned. "What's Evans doing?"

"Hey, Evans!" James said, sauntering over to the fire and dropping into the armchair opposite the sofa. "Stop chatting up the invalid."

Lily glared at him. "You don't own him, Potter. And I wasn't chatting him up. I was just checking if he was alright."

Sirius sat on the arm of the sofa beside Remus and peered at him. "You don't look very well, mate. Why did Pomfrey let you out?"

Remus made a face. "I hate the hospital wing. You know that. I escaped as soon as I …recovered."

_Recovered his mind_, Sirius thought. He could see the embarrassment and self-loathing lurking in the depths of Remus'ss haunted, amber eyes.

"Did you find Hamish?" Peter asked, bobbing down to sit on the floor in front of the fire.

"Yeah," Remus shifted a little so they could see the hedgehog sleeping peacefully on the blanket in his lap. Hamish's spines were still red and gold. "What on earth did you guys do to him? I leave him with you for one night and he comes back looking like a Christmas tree bauble."

James grinned. "If you lose him now, everyone will know to return him to the Gryffindor Tower."

"But what if a Slytherin finds him?"

"Good point." James drew out his wand and pointed it at the hedgehog, who woke up and blinked sleepy black eyes at James. "Silver and green? They wouldn't hurt one of their own."

"No!" Remus put his arms protectively over his pet. "I'm not letting you change him into Slytherin colours."

"He has a point, James," Sirius said. "He would clash horribly with the décor of our room."

"What décor?" Peter asked. "Do you mean the beds and that giant poster Sirius stuck up of James getting knocked off his broom in slow motion?"

Remus, Peter and Sirius sniggered as James blushed furiously and shot a glance at Lily. "Shut up!"

"Are you lot always like this?" Lily asked, looking a mixture of exasperated and amused.

"Always like what?" Remus asked, looking genuinely confused.

"Always so… boyish!"

"Pretty much," Sirius said, leering at her. "It probably has something to do with us being _boys_. Just the way you like it, hey, Evans?"

Lily shuddered. "You're so gross, Black." She stood up and tossed her dark red hair over her shoulder. "Couldn't you have found better friends, Remus?"

"I like my friends," Remus said mildly.

"Whatever," she said. "I'm going to find Alice and Rebecca. I hope you feel better soon."

She stalked away, shooting a last disgusted glance at Sirius who grinned back at her and winked.

"Sirius!" Remus said plaintively. "Did you _have _to do that?"

"What?" Sirius said. "I'm practicing my flirting. You told me all the girls were after me. I need to get my skills up to scratch."

"You're thirteen," Remus said. "It's just weird. And that wasn't flirting. It was practically molesting."

"I'll be fourteen in a couple of months," Sirius said. "And she deserved it for bugging you."

"She wasn't bugging me. She was being nice to me."

"He has a point, mate," James said.

"You're only backing him up 'cos you fancy her," Sirius said dismissively. "So you don't count."

"I do not fancy her!"

"Do too."

"Do not!"

"Guys!" Remus interrupted. "Please just shut up? " He yawned. "I think I'm going to bed." He stood up every movement creaky and pained.

"Need help, Moony?" James asked.

"Nah, I'm good." He shuffled towards the stairs still holding Hamish and wrapped in his blanket. His tawny hair was sticking up wildly around his head looking almost as bad as James's.

"Should we tell him, do you think?" Sirius asked, watching him. He looked so small.

"About the animagus thing?" James asked.

"Yeah."

James looked reflectively towards the stairs. "Not yet," he decided. "We should wait to see if it's possible first. We don't want to get his hopes up."

"I think I'm too stupid to do it," Peter said sadly. "You know I'm rubbish at spells and things. And McGonagall said it was really hard."

"We'll help you, mate, don't worry," James said, reaching over to ruffle Peter's hair.

"I just hope we can do it," said Sirius. "And I hope it will help him."

"We will. It will," James said. Sirius wished he could share in his friend's optimism.


	30. Seeing Thestrals

**Disclaimer: Nothing that you recognise as JK Rowling's belongs to me**

**Warnings: pre-slash**

**I would like to dedicate this chapter to Calamus-Nomen**** and yukiko07. Both of them have done some absolutely BEAUTIFUL illustrations for _Casting Moonshadows_. To see them, just look for links on my profile. They really are lovely pictures. **

"_I mean, a dog'll bite if yeh bait it, won' it - but Thestrals have jus' got a bad reputation because o' the death thing - people used ter think they were bad omens, didn' they? Jus' didn' understand, did they?_"

(Professor Rubeus Hagrid – _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix)_

**REMUS:**

"So tell me, mate," Sirius said cheerfully the next morning as the four Marauders made their way down to breakfast, "is it wolfie senses or bookworm senses?"

Remus looked up from the book he was reading and frowned at his friend. "What?"

"You've got all the way down from the dorm to the great hall without looking up once. You just seem to sense obstacles and people in your path and go around them."

"Uh…" Remus said intelligently. His brain felt fuzzy, he was exhausted and his wounds still hurt.

"Why are you reading anyway?" Peter asked. "It's not even breakfast time yet. It's just _wrong_."

"I-I don't want to g-get behind," Remus said, clutching the book to his chest with one hand and reaching down to stroke Hamish's head with the other. The hedgehog's little pointed face was peering worriedly out of Remus's robe pocket.

"It's more than that," James said, looking at him through narrowed eyes as they made their way over to sit at the Gryffindor table. "I can tell. You only stutter when you're talking about something you're worried about."

Remus ducked his head and carefully manoeuvred a piece of toast out of the toast rack without touching the silver. When Sirius, who was sitting beside him, touched his arm to try and made him look up, he just ducked his head further.

"Come on, Moony!" Sirius pleaded, twisting round so he could insert his face between Remus's bent head and his plate. Remus could not avoid looking at him and Sirius's puppy-dog pouting look never failed to work on him.

"It's just I want to do really well," Remus said with a sigh. "Dumbledore risked a lot to allow me to come to school and I want to do well to prove to him he did the right thing. And it's hard because I keep missing days and I'm _still _rubbish at potions and we start Divination this year and I have _no _idea how I'm going to cope with that."

"I don't think Dumbles will ever regret letting you come," Sirius said. "Even if you fail every subject. I mean, if it weren't for you, the school would have hardly anything to laugh at. Our pranks would be complete duds without you masterminding them."

Remus felt unconvinced. In fact, the reminder of his various pranks and the resulting detentions made him feel even worse.

"Remus," James said, "you have just as much right to be here as any of us. Dumbledore just gave you the chance to have something that should have been yours anyway."

Remus pursed his lips and nodded. He didn't believe a word they were saying but he didn't want to upset them so he remained silent. The conversation was thankfully interrupted by the post owls. Remus felt his heart lift a bit at the sight of Brutus. He immediately began cutting up his sausages and feeding them to the big bird before removing Neil's letter from his leg and slipping it into his pocket.

Sirius watched with amusement as Brutus hooted happily and leant forward to run his beak through Remus's hair. "Why is it that even though most animals hate you, the ones that love you just can't stay away?"

"It's my magnetic personality," Remus said. "They go for the loopy ones who are the most likely to part with their sausages."

Remus reached down into his pocket and pulled out Hamish, putting him on the table beside Brutus and offering him a piece of sausage as well. The hedgehog eyed it for a moment before turning his head and stealing a piece of bacon off Sirius's plate instead.

"Oi!" Sirius said loudly, trying to wrestle it back and failing when Hamish gave him a wide-eyed pleading look. "You've been giving him lessons!" Sirius accused, pointing at Remus with his fork. "I'd know that look anywhere."

His noisy accusation drew the interest of many of the surrounding Gryffindors.

"Oh, gross!" Lily said, from where she, Alice and Rebecca were sitting beside Peter. "Remus, get your hedgehog off the table! It's unhygienic."

"But he's hungry!" Remus said, employing 'the look' himself.

"Why is he red and gold?" Frank asked with interest.

"Ask James," Remus said darkly. "You're lucky he's not silver and green."

"I didn't know you had a hedgehog," Alice said, leaning round Lily to get a look. "He's very cute."

Hamish appeared to ignore the attention, taking the opportunity steal another piece of bacon off Sirius's plate.

"Is bacon good for hedgehogs?" Frank asked doubtfully.

"I don't know." Remus studied Hamish. "They eat slugs and snails and things naturally, don't they? I guess it's all meat."

"I heard you have to feed them dog food," Lily volunteered, apparently giving up on trying to maintain hygiene standards at the Gryffindor table.

"I don't have any dog food."

"Hagrid might," Sirius said. "We have care of magical creatures next. We can drop by his hut afterwards."

"Speaking of which," James said, casting a tempus charm, "we have to go. We have a practical lesson today, remember. We have to get all the way down to the edge of the Forest."

The third years at the Gryffindor table all agreeably shuffled to their feet and headed outside, most still chewing on pieces of toast or yawning and wishing they were back in bed.

"What on earth is that?" Sirius asked the other Marauders as they approached the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Backing onto the forest was a large enclosure, surrounded by a high fence. Inside, the third year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, with whom they shared the class, could see a massive stretch of bog-land. It smelled of damp and decomposition, and was dotted with little islands of mud on which grew odd-looking magical plants. As they crept closer, Remus could see that the temporary, magical bog was filled with bits of floating, dead wood.

"If everyone will approach the fence we can start the lesson," said Professor Kettleburn, coming up behind them and making a few of the girls and Peter squeak in surprise. Sirius sniggered and elbowed the chubby boy teasingly. Remus felt sorry for Peter as he blushed furiously.

"Who can tell me what this habitat is?" Professor Kettleburn asked as they cautiously approached the fence and peered inside.

"Bog-land," volunteered a Hufflepuff girl named Rosemary, staring out at the scene with interest.

"Correct. Five points to Hufflepuff. Now, watch this."

Proffessor Kettleburn reached his scarred hand into a large, shabby bag at his side and pulled out a dead rabbit.

"Oh, that is disgusting," Alice said, making a sick face. Professor Kettleburn ignored her and took a step back to launch the dead rabbit over the fence and into the enclosure. This time, the whole class let off shrieks of surprise as the pieces of dead wood that had been floating round in the boggy water came alive and launched themselves at the dead rabbit, tearing it to pieces ravenously.

"Dugbogs!" Remus said, feeling his face stretch into a wide grin of wonder as he recognised the creatures from the pictures in their textbooks. "Those are dugbogs!"

"Correct, Mr. Lupin." Professor Kettleburn waved a hand with three missing fingers at Remus delightedly. "Ten point to Gryffindor! Yes, these are dugbogs – commonly found in Europe and North and South America. Their favourite food is Mandrakes, but they will happily eat small mammals such as rabbits. It is not wise to wander through a bog containing dugbogs. The damage they can do to your feet and ankles can be severe."

"Awesome!" James said, peering through the fence and trying to catch sight of the dugbogs again. Unfortunately, they had finished their snack and had gone back to masquerading as pieces of dead wood.

"In today's lesson, you will continue throwing food to the dugbogs," Professor Kettleburn continued. "While they are eating, you will attempt to catch sight of what they look like and draw diagrams based on your observations. The bags of dead rabbits are over there." He pointed to a pile of bloody-looking sacks near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Many of the students groaned in disgust.

Remus followed the other Marauders to the sacks, wrinkling his nose as the powerful smell of blood triggered his sensitive sense of smell. His human side felt a bit revolted by the rich, metallic scent, while his wolf side woke and relished in it. Sirius must have noticed him stagger a bit.

"Alright, Remus?" he asked worriedly.

"Smells like blood," Remus muttered, trying to hold his breath and fight the wolf back.

"Don't worry, mate," Sirius said, squeezing his shoulder. "We'll get the sacks. You wait here."

Remus stopped with relief and watched as the other students reluctantly began picking through the sacks of dead animals.

"This is so unhygienic!" he heard Lily complain loudly.

Movement at the edge of the forest caught his eye. Remus turned his head and froze when he saw three massive horse-like creatures with giant bat wings eyeing the pile of bloody sacks longingly. He recognised them immediately as the creatures he saw pulling the school carriages. Remus felt his breath quicken and glanced quickly to his classmates. None of them seemed to be aware of the creatures watching them.

"Remus?" Remus jumped violently when James put a hand on his shoulder. He grabbed his friend's arm and pointed to the animals.

"What?" Sirius asked, peering to where Remus was pointing.

"Th-th-there! Giant, b-bat-horse things!" Remus glanced at his friends urgently. "Tell the other students to get away!"

"Moony, what are you talking about?" Peter asked, looking at him in worry. "There's nothing there."

"_There is! There is!_" Remus insisted, becoming more and more horrified as the creatures began to venture closer to the oblivious pupils.

"Maybe we should get you to the hospital wing," Sirius said, dropping his sack and putting a protective arm around Remus's shoulders.

"_Watch out! Get away!_" Remus screamed, breaking away from his friends who made a grab for him. He hurried towards the sacks and the rest of the students as one of the horse-like things made a grab at a bloody rabbit's foot.

"_Remus!_" Sirius, James and Peter ran after him, grabbing hold of him as the rest of the class turned to watch the scene in bewilderment. Remus struggled, but didn't dare use his werewolf strength in front of all these spectators.

"Get away!" he called to the other students weakly, feeling his heart beat in fright. "They'll hurt you!"

"There's nothing _there_, Moony," Sirius said, looking distressed. "You're seeing things."

"What's going on here?" Professor Kettleburn demanded, coming up and glaring at the Marauders.

"Remus has gone insane," Peter told him tremulously, still holding tightly onto Remus'ss struggling arm.

"I'm not!" Remus screamed. "Can't you _see _them?"

Professor Kettleburn turned towards where Remus was staring and froze as well. Then he said very calmly, "Will all of you please move away from the sacks and come here."

"What?" James demanded. "What's going on?"

The rest of the class hurried to obey, staring towards the pile of sacks on confusion.

"What do you see, Remus?" Professor Kettleburn asked, his usually rough voice gentle.

"Horse things," Remus said, trembling. "Black with bat w-wings and sticky-out r-ribs. They have horrible eyes – all white and cloudly. Like dead th-things."

"Good boy," Professor Kettleburn said. "That was a good description for those who can't see them."

"You mean they're really there?" Sirius asked, squinting towards the forest in confusion. "Why can't we all see them? Why can only you and Remus see them?"

"Those are thestrals," Professor Kettleburn said. "There is a herd of them in the Forbidden Forest that Hagrid trained to pull the school carriages at the beginning of every year."

James's and Sirius's mouths dropped open and they turned to stare at Remus.

"You really _weren't _loopy," Sirius said. "You _were _seeing something that time in first year."

"Indeed," Professor Kettleburn said. "Thestrals can only be seen by those who have seen death."

Remus felt himself grow cold. He knew the blood was draining from his face and he began to shake even more. The thestrals were now crowding towards the sacks of dead rabbits, their sightless white eyes fixed on the bloody pile.

"Death?" James asked weakly. "What do you mean?"

"Thestrals can only be seen by those who have seen someone die in front of their eyes."

The whole class turned to look at Remus. He shrank back against Sirius who was still standing close beside him.

"You've seen someone die?" Peter asked, looking horrified. "Who?"

Remus flinched and Sirius, James and Professor Kettleburn all glared at Peter. "If you don't mind, Mr. Pettigrew, I would rather you didn't upset a fellow student with questions like that," the professor said sternly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Moony!" Peter said, his eyes widening. "I didn't think…"

"You _never_ think!" Sirius snapped.

"Hey, look!" Douglas and Frank were staring towards the pile of sacks. Remus saw that one of the thestrals had managed to tear one open and they were feasting on the rabbits with relish. He wondered what it looked like to the others who could only see the pieces of bloody meat disappearing into thin air.

_Those who have seen death_. The words kept running round in his head again and again. He was vaguely aware of the professor telling everyone how thestrals were attracted to the smell of blood, but his mind was more focussed on the memories of a night many years ago when he crouched over his mother, staring at the torn, glistening tendons and bones of her chest and neck as the blood pooled around them both.

_"…D-don't let them t-turn you into a m-m-monster like h-h-h-him. The w-wolf hasn't ch-changed you. S-say it Remus!"_

Remus felt his breath jerk into his chest and closed his eyes.

_Only those who have seen death…the wolf hasn't changed you…_

"Moony?" He opened his eyes to find both James and Sirius watching him with concerned expressions. He forced a smile.

"I'm sorry we didn't believe you before," James said quietly.

Remus sighed and looked away. "You weren't to know."

"But we should have trusted you," Sirius said. "We're sorry. And I'm sorry about… whoever it was you saw… you know… die." He looked angry at himself for his own clumsiness.

"It's fine. Don't worry." Remus forced another smile. "It was a long time ago."

His three friends watched him closely, questions, concern and affection on their eyes. He knew what they all wanted to ask, but didn't dare.

"My mother," Remus whispered softly, for their ears only. "She tried to rescue me from the wolf. She saved my life."

The old hurt was so deep he didn't even stutter as he spoke. It was as if it was no longer his own voice, but that of the little boy he had once been.

Before the wolf had changed him.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The rest of the day seemed to pass in a blur. Remus knew the others were worried about him, but he couldn't bring himself to reassure them. Every time his mind wandered, it turned towards That Night. Seeing the thestrals, and hearing why he was the only one who could see them had brought the memories he had done his best to repress to the forefront of his mind and they refused to go away.

He thought of how things had been eight years ago, before the attack. He had had his beautiful mother who was a potions mistress, and they used to go out dancing in the moon shadows at night. His father had been happier. He never hurt Remus before That Night, though Remus wasn't sure it was because he hadn't wanted to, or because he knew Serena wouldn't approve.

Remus knew it was his fault it had all changed. If he had not gone out that night, his mother would still be alive, his father would not be in Azkaban and Remus would not be a werewolf. So many consequences came from one small mistake he hadn't even been aware of making at the time. So many terrible, bloody consequences and it was all his fault.

When classes were finished, Remus slipped away from his friends, missing dinner, and went to the library where he crept under one of the tables with a book on potions ingredients. He sat cross-legged on the floor beneath the table, turning the pages slowly as he remembered his mother.

He heard the other Marauders come in after a while to look for him. He didn't feel like speaking to them and watched silently from the shadows beneath the table as they gave up their search and headed back out again. He felt guilty for worrying them, but he couldn't face their sympathy or questions right now.

When it got dark outside and curfew approached, Remus crept out from under the table and out of the library. Keeping to the shadows, he flitted silently through the corridors and out of the hidden door by the hospital wing. He headed out to the Quidditch pitch as he had almost a whole year ago, feeling the newly waning moon hovering overhead.

When he reached the pitch he knelt on the grass and tilted his head back to stare up at the almost-full moon that hovered overhead. If he concentrated hard, he imagined he could almost feel his mother beside him, just as he had all that time ago.

"_I'm being followed by a moon shadow, moon shadow, moon shadow…_" he sang softly, feeling the night breeze ruffling his hair. "_Leaping and a hopping on a moon shadow, moon shadow, moon shadow…._"

He looked down and held his hand so it hovered over the grass, casting a shadow beneath. With his other hand, he reached up to hold the pendant around his neck, tracing the blood-red garnet set in the centre of the tiny palm with his thumb.

"_And if I ever loose my eyes, if my colour all runs dry. Yes, if I ever loose my eyes, hey, I won't have to cry no more…_"

Cry. When was the last time he cried? He couldn't remember. He remembered sniffling a bit in first year after the other Marauders had interrogated Frank about why he wasn't best friends with Remus, and after he had spoken to his father after the trial, but he couldn't remember the last time he had properly cried. Perhaps it had been on That Night as he watched his mother die?

"Mum?" he asked tremulously, his voice sounding quite pathetic in the breezy night air. He suddenly couldn't feel her any more. He felt horribly alone out here on his own. "M-Mum?"

He concentrated, but he couldn't feel her. Had she left him, now she knew the wolf had changed him? Maybe he could bring her back. He remembered his wish last year. He had wished on blood and moon shadows.

He dropped the pendant and pulled his wand out of his pocket. He raised his right hand and opened his mouth to whisper the cutting spell when a warm hand grabbed his wrist and stopped him. Remus let out a squeak of shock and jerked his arm away, swinging round to face the person behind him.

"Don't, Moony," Sirius said, his grey eyes wide with urgency as he knelt beside Remus. "Don't hurt yourself."

"How did you find me?" Remus whispered. Sirius had crept up to him downwind which explained why he hadn't scented the other boy.

"I saw you in the library. Under the table. I waited outside to check you got back okay. I followed you out here. Like I did last time."

"Go away!" Remus said, feeling angry. "You had no right to intrude like that!"

"I wouldn't have. But you were going to cut yourself."

Remus looked down at his left hand which still gripped his wand. It was shaking. "I had to. It's how it works."

"No it isn't. That's not why we became your friends." Sirius reached out and prised Remus's wand from his unresisting fingers. "You don't have to make blood sacrifices to reach out to the people who care about you."

"B-but…" Remus made a grab for his wand and Sirius held it out of his reach.

"No, Remus!" It was one of the few times Sirius had used Remus's full Christian name for a long time. The taller boy's face was very grave.

Remus gave up and turned his back on Sirius, drawing his knees up to his chest and burying his head in them. He heard Sirius shift uncertainly behind him, then a warm arm wrapped around his shoulder, drawing him close to Sirius's side. He felt a breath against his ear before Sirius whispered softly, "not everything comes down to blood and moon shadows."

"Yes it does," Remus replied, his voice muffled. "With me, it's all everything comes down to. It's what I am."

"No it's not," Sirius said firmly. "Maybe it's a big part, but it's not everything. What about Hamish? And Brutus? What about the Anders and school and books? What about magic and pranks and our dorm room? What about the Marauders? Isn't all that also who you are? What about me? I'm one of your best friends, and I don't have anything to do with the moon except through you. My name is a star."

Remus didn't answer for a long time. Then he said, "did you prepare that speech?"

Sirius snorted. "Git! Of course I didn't. I'm a Black. We're naturally what's-the-word? Where you're good with words?"

Remus gave a muffled chuckle. "Articulate."

"Yeah, that."

"Liar."

Sirius sighed. "Fine. I maybe prepared it a bit. But only while I was sitting here watching you. So it wasn't _properly _prepared. Not like homework prepared."

Remus looked up and smiled at Sirius, his eyes still watery. "It was a good speech."

Sirius grinned. "Of course it was. The great Sirius Black made it."

Remus tilted his head back to look up at the moon again. "I was thinking about my mother."

"I guessed," Sirius said, tone solemn again.

"She was a potions mistress. She used to take me out at night to pick potions ingredients under the moon. She was Muggleborn and she used to sing all these old Muggle songs about the moon. It was magical. Like fairytale magical, not ordinary magical." Remus turned to look at Sirius and smiled. "Those were the best times of my life until the Marauders. Under the moon with her."

"What happened?" Sirius asked gently.

Remus looked away again. "One day I woke up with a nightmare and I wanted to go to my parents' room so they could comfort me. I heard them arguing inside. Something about someone called Greyback who had escaped. He was angry with my father or something. My mother was upset because he didn't want her to go out at night anymore. I didn't understand what was going on. I just wanted them to comfort me but I was afraid to go in, so I sneaked outside instead."

"_What?_"

"You have to understand that outside under the moon was where I felt most safe. It was almost as good as having my mother there. I could feel that magic and it was helping me get over my nightmare. But of course I was only six at the time. I didn't link what they were arguing about to a danger to myself. Greyback – who is a werewolf – attacked me. My parents heard my screams and my mother ran out and blasted him off me. But werewolves are tough when they're transformed and he was insane anyway. He leaped up and attacked her as well. My father blasted him off her as well. I'm not totally sure what happened then." Remus bowed his head again, feeling himself begin to shake. "I r-remember crawling to my mother and seeing her neck and chest ripped out and b-b-bleeding. I could see bone and b-blood and muscle and stuff. It was the most h-h-horrible thing I have ever seen. And she was talking to me, even though she was dying. She made me p-p-promise not to become a m-monster like G-G-Greyback. She told me n-not to let the wolf ch-change me."

Remus felt Sirius shift closer and wrap both arms around him. "I'm sorry, Moony. I'm so sorry."

"I h-h-have changed," Remus hiccoughed, feeling tears begin to make their way down his cheeks. "I _have _let it ch-change m-me!"

He felt Sirius'ss hand rubbing his back and was briefly reminded of a fuzzy post-moon memory from the hospital wing. "That's not what she meant," Sirius murmured into his ear. "She didn't mean you should fight what you are. She meant that you mustn't let it turn you into a monster. And you haven't. You _haven't _Rem. _I'm _more of a monster than you are. You're good and kind. You're not a monster at all. I think she would be very proud of you."

Remus felt something crack inside him then. It was like a dam breaking open and flooding him. He couldn't have stopped it if his life had depended on it. He clung to Sirius and felt himself crumble. It couldn't even be called crying. It was more like violent spasms of hurt and grief that shook his whole body brutally. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, he couldn't do anything except live through the tidal wave of emotions that he had been repressing for too long. He felt himself choking and retching, and all the time Sirius held him and didn't say anything. He just hummed softly and rubbed Remus'ss back, waiting for him to recover.

And then it was over and Remus was left exhausted and hiccoughing and gasping for breath. Sirius still didn't talk and Remus was glad. The black-haired boy helped him to his feet and half carried him back inside. He supported Remus up the many staircases to Gryffindor tower and through the portrait hole. Luckily the common room was empty and they made their way undisturbed to their dorm where James and Peter watched silently from their beds as Sirius pulled Remus over to his own and helped him beneath the covers, pulling off his shoes and outer robes and tucking him in. He gave Remus a last squeeze before gently disentangling Remus'ss fingers from his own robes – Remus hadn't even noticed he had been clutching him so hard – and carefully closing the curtains.

Before he disappeared from view entirely, Remus managed to whisper, "Thank you, Sirius," and was rewarded with a small smile and a wink before Sirius retreated to his own bed.

Then Remus closed his eyes and remembered nothing more.


	31. Operation Battle Robot

**Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. **

**Second Disclaimer: In her fanfic, **_**Padfoot Prohibited**_**, the author, Liveley, wrote the single line; "****The whole of Hogwarts' suits of armor cannot be assembled into a giant battle robot." It was such an inspired idea for a Marauder prank, that I thought it deserved more that one line. As a result, I used the idea for this chapter, but all credit for it must go to Liveley and her brilliant fanfic. **

_"Experience is the name every one gives to their mistakes." _

_Oscar Wilde_

**SIRIUS:**

Third year, Sirius noticed, was the most uneventful year they had ever experienced at Hogwarts. Aside from numerous lectures from teachers about the importance of working hard in all their subjects so they could do well in the OWLS in fifth year, a few pranks on the Slytherins, and a lot of sneaky animagus research that resulted in barely anything, nothing much seemed to happen until Christmas; when the Marauders – who were determined to liven things up a bit – pulled 'Operation Battle Robot'.

The idea had come to them over breakfast one November morning while James and Sirius were complaining about the fact that the Quidditch team had no need of any new players this year, amd so weren't holding tryouts.

"It's not fair," James said, buttering his toast so vigorously that he wore a hole in it. "It's not like the team is even any good. I mean come on – they won _one _game last year, and that was only because the Hufflepuff seeker had been knocked squiffy by a bludger from his own team."

"Yeah," Sirius agreed moodily. "And I really wanted to try out for beater. Think of all the fun I could have had whacking dangerous objects in the direction of Slytherin heads without getting detention for it."

"Cheer up, guys," Peter said. "Next year they have two chasers _and _a beater going. There's no way you won't get in."

"I can't cheer up," James mourned. "A whole year!"

"Why don't we plan a Christmas prank on the Slytherins?" Sirius suggested. "We could hire a giant and set it on their common room to rampage and cause general havoc and mayhem, and possibly even a thouch of chaos. You know how much I love chaos."

The others, who had seen the state of Sirius's school trunk, nodded sagely. James also appeared to brighten as he considered the idea. "Where would we get a giant, though?" he asked. "And how would we tell it to only attack Slytherins and not the rest of us? I've heard they're a bit thick. Kind of like Goyle would be if he was twenty foot taller, a gazillion times stinkier and had been dropped on his head as a baby."

"You won't," Remus said. "I can't allow you to set a giant on the school - even in the interests of dragging you and Sirius out of a sulk. It might kill someone."

"We could make our own," Sirius said. "Transfigure something in the school to look giant-like and attack the Slytherins."

"Like a battle robot," Peter said. "You start out with lots of mini robots and they all come together to make a giant robot that attacks the whole school. They do it in loads of muggle films about the future."

"Brilliant!" James said, then; "What's a robot?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "You guys really should take Muggle Studies next year. They're like metal people that run on electricity and can be controlled by ordinary humans. The muggles have them in their movies about the future. Sometimes there are whole armies of robots that take over the world."

"That is so cool," Sirius said. "So they're like...what? Suits of armour without people in?" His eyes widened. "Merlin, I'm a genius!"

James's face broke into an identical grin. "A giant battle robot made of suits of armour," he said dreamily. "Chasing Slytherins down the corridor and throwing them into a giant pool of green jelly. No, not just Slytherins - the whole school!"

"Why green jelly?" Remus asked.

"Why not?" James asked reasonably.

"I think it's brilliant," Sirius said. "Remus – you have to help us find the correct charms."

"No, wait," Remus said, his amber eyes growing rather desperate, "Suits of armour aren't _designed _to turn into giant battle robots. They would fall apart."

"That's why you use _sticking _charms to stick them together," James said.

"I'm not doing it," Remus said firmly. "I'm really not."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"This is going to be brilliant," Sirius hissed to Remus as the four of them crept down the main corridor at four in the morning on the last day of term. "Best prank ever since your ice prank."

"I still have no idea how you lot talked me into this," Remus complained. "And we really are all getting too big to fit under this cloak." He poked a hand out and aimed his wand at a nearby suit of armour. "_Tempus Animatus!_"

"Twelve down, sixty three more to go," Peter said cheerfully. "All set of to go at lunch. It's going to be brilliant."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It started out according to plan. At one 'o clock, on the dot, while the whole school was calmly eating lunch, there was a thunderous clanking sound from outside the hall that gradually grew louder and louder.

All heads turned towards the main doors, just as they burst open to reveal an army of seventy-five suits of armour – all marching in formation – enter and line up in full view of all the tables.

"What on earth is going on!" Professor McGonagall demanded from the staff table, her eyes automatically seeking out the Marauders who all contrived to look innocent. "If you boys – "

She broke off as, with a sound like an entire brass band being shaken up together in a giant metal drum, the army started to move. The suits of armour began coming together, climbing up each other's shoulders, standing on each other's heads, building themselves taller and taller, until the – now very deafened and shocked – hall was presented with a giant metal creature that only very vaguely resembled a human form.

"Remus, have I ever told you you're a genius?" Sirius breathed, eyeing it in wonder.

"You lads cast most of the spells," Remus pointed out, with the air of one who is trying to convince himself he is not entirely to blame.

"Yeah, but you put them together."

The 'battle robot' gave an unsteady lurch and began staggering towards the Ravenclaw table, causing the students who were sitting there to begin screaming and scrambling away from their seats. It tried to follow them and nearly overbalanced.

"Not very steady on its feet," James commented, having to raise his voice over the noise of the clanking and screams.

"That's because it has too many," Remus said. "I told you guys that suits of armour weren't designed to come together in a giant battle robot, but would you listen to me?"

"It's still awesome," Peter put in.

The metal creature had now given up on the Ravenclaws who had taken to cowering behind the staff table and turned to the Slytherins instead. That's when things started to go wrong. The Slytherins – while still screaming and scrambling out the way – also began shooting spells at the 'robot'. They ranged from tickling charms and bat-bogey hexes, to a few much darker spells that would have got their caster's into heaps of trouble if anyone had been able to make out who was responsible in all the chaos.

Although most of the spells had no effect on their own, the amount of magic that was being aimed at the robot began to wear away at the spells that were holding it active and together.

"Oh no!" Sirius moaned, as the robot staggered to a brief halt and began swaying. It staggered backwards – away from the Slytherin table and towards the main doors, looking even drunker that it had before. It teetered forward and looked about to fall directly onto the Hufflepuff table, crushing all the students still sitting there, frozen with shock.

Sirius thought his heart would actually pop with fear. He took one look at the white faces of the Hufflepuffs that were tilted upwards towards the metal creature and screamed, "_Blasting curses, lads! Towards the door!_"

He could only be glad that the other Marauders knew him so well, because they all immediately pulled out their wands and began throwing blasting curses at the robot, causing it to stagger back from the Hufflepuff table again. As others began to catch onto their plan, more blasting curses from all over the hall rained down on the battle robot. It froze, only inches away from the main doorway, then teetered back and fell – seemingly in slow motion – to land with a gigantic, metallic _splat! _in the huge pool of green jelly that the Marauder's had charmed to form just outside the door.

Everyone within a ten-meter radius of the doorway was splattered in lime-flavoured jelly and for a long moment, there was only a deathly, whistling hush. Then, slowly, all heads turned towards the Marauders who still stood with their wands out.

"Who, us?" Sirius said, trying to look innocent and failing miserably.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

'Operation Battle Robot,' landed all four Marauders in detention every night for the rest of the year. James's parents were so angry when they heard about it, that they wouldn't even allow him to return home for Christmas. The others also chose to remain at school to keep him company.

"The worse thing about it," Sirius said, one day in June after six months of after- school detention, "is that we haven't had time to research animagi properly. We had little enough time as it is - what with having to keep it a secret from Rem and everything. Now we have practically nothing."

The three of them were sitting in the library very late one full moon night, with piles of books from the transfiguration section surrounding them.

"We'll have to see if we can find anything over the summer," James said, rubbing his eyes and squinting down at his book. "My eyes feel like they're on fire."

"I can't go in the Black library!" Sirius said in alarm. "My mother would kill me. And if she didn't, some of those cursed books in there would."

"And we don't really have that many magical books about," Peter added. "We have loads of muggle family who come and visit us all the time because my parents are muggle-born so we can't have magic stuff around that much."

James groaned. "I guess it's down to me then," he said. "I'll see what I can do, but my parents are going to be seriously suspicious if I spend too much time in the library. I never have before."

"Well, you'll just have to find a way," Sirius said, glancing out the window to look at the full moon. "I don't think Rem can take many more transformations on his own without help."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""


	32. SUMMER HOLIDAYS THIRD YEAR

**Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. **

**Warning: This chapter is unbeta'd, so please excuse any mistakes. **

_I guess when it comes down to it _  
_Being grown up isn't half as fun as growing up _  
_These are the best days of our lives _  
_The only thing that matters is just following your heart _  
_And eventually you'll finally get it right.- (The Ataris) _

SUMMER HOLIDAYS – End of Third Year

Dear James,

I hope you are having more fun than I am this holiday. I have not been locked in the cellar yet, but that's only because we've had a load of darstardly Slytherin suck-ups visiting who want to gawk at the heir to the Black Fortune. I actually heard my father discussing _marriage _arrangements with the head of the Bulstrode family. Have you seen what they all look like? I swear there's an English bulldog in their family tree somewhere. I was actually expecting Angharrad Bulstrode to bark at any moment all through dinner. And she's three years older than me – it's just gross! I think I would rather be disowned.

And do you know what the worse thing is? Regulus is turning into one of them! He hardly speaks to me any more and has a go at me any time I try to make him do something fun. I know I didn't get much chance to talk to him over the school year, but I didn't realise he had become _that _entrenched in Slytherin politics. He was totally sucking up to Malfoy – yes Malfoy – the whole time he was here. Did you hear that my family is in negotiations to get him hitched to my cousin, Narcissa? (Malfoy, not Regulus – we haven't got _that _badly incestuous yet. Though I reckon it's only a matter of time.) I'm not really sure who I feel more sorry for.

Please write and tell me how you are doing. Have you heard from Moony since his last you-know-what? I worry about him without the Marauders to look after him.

Sirius

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Dear Sirius,

I haven't heard from Moony, but my Dad talked to Anders at work and he said he's doing fine. Dad doesn't know about Moony's furry little problem, but apparently Anders said he had a rough bout of 'illness' and has been taking it easy for a while. Probably holed up doing holiday homework.

I have been looking through our library books for any stuff for 'Operation Help Moony'. Mum got really suspicious, though (on account of the fact I haven't voluntarily opened a book my Dad snuck me a copy of 'Cursing Slytherins and Other Second Rate Citizens' in first year) and now she checks all the books I look at to see if they're suitable. That means I can't really access any of the advanced Transfiguration books. It's a really bugger. There are loads here and I can't get to them without some serious sneaking. Nothing to report so far.

I heard from Pete that he's going to be in Diagon Alley near the end of August if we want to meet up then. Can you do that? My parents say to tell you that you are welcome to come and stay with me any time you want. They really took to you last summer. Think of something and come. I hate to think of you alone there among all the snakes.

Wishing you chocolate and dungbombs,

James

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Dear Sirius, James and Peter (this copying spell I found is brilliant, huh? Gone are the days when we have to rewrite all the letters by hand. And before you ask – no, you may not use it for homework assignments).

I'm sorry I didn't write to you for ages. I haven't been very well, but I'm getting much better. Moony is now used to the change of scenery. You know what he's like about different places.

Neil and Angela were _not _impressed by 'Operation Battle Robot' and grounded me for two weeks when I got back, but since I have been 'ill', they have loosened up a lot. Though Angela _has_ found a new way of punishing me for misdemeanours (I had honestly forgotten about those dung-bombs James put in my coat pocket. How was I supposed to know Neil would sit on them?). She makes me do the laundry. Considering her wardrobe this is no mean feat. One of her skirts chased me into the linen closet for ages after I tried to put a stain-removing potion on it, and a pair of her tights tried to strangle me when I was hanging them on the washing line.

Sirius, are you going to James's this summer? I hope you can. I hate to think of you at home with that harpy you call your mother. I couldn't believe how mean she was to you at the station.

Are you guys still up for meeting at Diagon Alley at the end of August?

Got to go now. Neil is yelling because Hamish has been chewing on today's Daily Prophet. I swear that hedgehog escapes _all _the time. I have no idea how he gets out, but he's forever getting me into trouble. I have changed his spines red and gold again because it makes him easier to spot.

Remus

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

James!

I can come to your house! My family have been invited to Malfoy Manor for a few weeks near the end of summer and they told me they didn't want me to come and that I had to 'make plans to go somewhere because they weren't leaving a bloody Gryffindor in the Noble House of Black alone'.

Can I still come? Please say yes! One more stint in that cellar and I might inherit the Black insanity. Gotta go. I promised I would write to Remus today promising not to do anything stupid that will get me into trouble with my Mum. Fat chance.

See you soon! Yay!

Sirius

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Moooooooony!

You'll be happy to know I have only been locked in the cellar a few of times this summer. I have been on my best behaviour. Regulus put candles down there for me even though he hardly talks to me any more. You must tell me how to fix it with him, Rem. You're good at stuff like that. What did I do to make him mad?

Anyway, I am off to James's in a week and I can't wait! And we will be meeting up soon as well. I plan on checking to make sure those Anders are treating you well still. Otherwise I will have to ride in on my charger to rescue you. After I've bought a charger, of course.

I miss you, Moony,

Sirius

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Hey guys!

It's been another depressingly magic-less summer for me filled with muggle relatives. I can't wait to see you all at Diagon Alley again. My Dad saw James's Dad at the ministry the other day and he said he could tell by the harried and over-wrought look on his face that Sirius had joined the Potter family for the Summer. Good for you, mate!

Nothing much to report here, except I watched a movie with an army of robots in it with my cousin the other day and I couldn't stop laughing and thinking of green jelly. My cousin got mad that I was disturbing the film and poured half a box of popcorn over my head, so I quietly cast the constipation charm on him that Sirius taught me. He's been looking uncomfortable for days. It's brilliant. I might have to take it off soon before my parents get suspicious.

Look forward to seeing you all!

Pete

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Hey Pete!

We're so proud of you! What a lovely, sneaky use of the constipation charm! You deserve this month's Marauder's badge of honour. We've been trying to sneak out the more advanced books from the Potter library to research you-know-what, but we haven't been successful so far. Mrs. Potter has eyes on the back of her head, I swear.

We can't wait to see you tomorrow. Bring your pocket money. The school has gone too long without some Marauder mayhem. We'll have to think of a big prank to pull at Halloween. Christmas is just too far away. Also we'll be able to try out for Quidditch this year!

From,

Sirius and James

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Dear Sirius and James,

Thank you both for that lovely LONG letter detailing every precise Quidditch move used by the Harpies and the Chudley Cannons in this summer's match. I don't know how I was surviving without that knowledge. (How do you make a letter sound sarcastic?)

Anyway, I'm glad you guys are having a good time. It was so nice to see you last Saturday at Diagon Alley. I was beginning to feel lonely without my pack. How many of your pranking items have you wasted on James's poor parents already? Angela says to tell Mrs. Potter that she has the patience of the saint for putting up with the two of you, but that's only because I accidentally dyed all her white scarves luminous pink and they was so horrified, they crawled away and hid behind the broom shed for two hours. Neil said "If you think we've got a bad one, you should try teaching James and Sirius for a year." I'm sure he meant it as a compliment.

By the way, remember that poster you sent me last year of James falling off his broom? That charm Sirius put on to make it go slowly has gone dodgy and now he falls fast for two metres, then slow, then fast, then slow. It's really funny to watch. You should try it on your copy and the one in the dorm.

I can't wait to see you guys at the station. Two more days!

Remus

PS: If you grow any taller in those two days, I'm getting a new pack!

**REMUS:**

Remus couldn't believe how much James and Sirius had grown over a single summer. Both dark-haired boys had apparently hit their growth-spurts at the same time. James seemed to have acquired a dozen elbows, knees and lanky limbs, without any extra fat to go with them. He was now extraordinary long and thin, though his face had lost its childish roundness and now held hints of the handsome, messy-haired man he would become.

Sirius, on the other hand – along with his elegance, smooth dark hair and grey eyes – had inherited the Black skill of gliding through his adolescence with no sign of the gangly stretched-looking stage that usually went with it. He now also towered over Remus – though Remus had grown a few inches himself – and looked even more handsome than he had the year before.

"This is so unfair!" Remus complained to Peter – who was also half a head taller than him by now, but still rather podgy - as they made their way to an empty compartment on the train. "I feel like a midget."

He absently picked up the trunk Sirius was struggling with, lifted it easily into the compartment and shoved it under one of the seats. He caught Sirius grinning at him and scowled. "What?"

"You're very strong for a midget. Do you know that it took James and me all our strength and ingenuity to get that trunk onto the station?"

Remus glanced down at the trunk. "It wasn't that heavy."

"It was," James put in. "And you have grown. You're taller than you were. Though you are a bit puny compared to the rest of us."

"Puny!" Remus said indignantly. "At least I haven't developed four new elbows. We could fold you up and tuck you into the overhead compartment."

"He has a point, mate," Sirius said with mock sympathy, laying a consoling hand on James's arm.

"Unless you want to be belching slugs for the rest of the journey, I would quit teasing me," James said grumpily. "I was trying to be nice." He brightened up a bit. "Hey, speaking of nice, did anyone else see Evans today? I don't know what she did to her hair, but wow!" he whistled in appreciation.

"You're whipped, mate," Sirius said, throwing himself down onto a seat and shaking his black hair out of his eyes in a gesture that struck Remus as a little canine. Sirius's grey eyes met his and he winked. "Don't you reckon, Moony?"

Remus couldn't help smiling. "He is a bit."

"Well, she is the most good-looking girl in the school," James said, defensively. "It's not like I fancy her or anything, but you can't deny she's pretty."

"Whatever." Sirius waved his hand dismissively. "You gonna go for chaser? I heard the Quidditch tryouts are this week. They want to get as many practices in before the first game in November."

"Definitely," James said, his face lighting up. "Try out for chaser with me. We'll be unbeatable!"

"Nope," Sirius said. "Beater all the way."

Remus sighed as the talk turned to Quidditch and tuned out, staring out of the window and wondering what the new year would be like.


	33. We Will See Who Dies Laughing

**Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, not me unfortunately. **

**Hi! Hope you all enjoy this new chapter. Sorry it took me a few extra days to update. I hope it's worth the wait. Oh, and there's some lovely new fan pics for this story as well. Links are on my profile, so have a look, because they're really good. As always, please review! They inspire me to update.**

**Moonsign X **

_We all grow up with the weight of history on us. _

_Our ancestors dwell in the attics of our brains as_

_ they do in the spiraling chains of knowledge_

_ hidden in every cell of our bodies. _

_(Shirley Abbott)_

**SIRIUS:**

"I still don**'**tsee why you won't try out for chaser with me!" James complained as the four of them sat in the Gryffindor stands waiting for the Quidditch tryouts to begin.

"I don't want to be a chaser," Sirius said. He eyed the students from the other houses who had come to watch the tryouts, his eyes lingering particularly on the Slytherins who sneered at the Gryffindor hopefuls from under the silver and green banners of their stands.

"You only want to be beater so that you have an excuse to bash heavy, dangerous objects in the direction of Slytherin heads without getting punished," Remus said, looking up from where he was drawing on a large piece of parchment.

Sirius grinned, completely unrepentant. "You know me too well, Moony." He hefted his beater's bat. "I wish it would start soon. I hate just sitting round and wasting good prank-pulling time." He glanced down at Remus who had returned to his drawing. "What're you doing, Moony? That doesn't look like homework. Are you doing a portrait of me to get you though the long hours of Quidditch practice without me at your side?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing. I can't live without the constant presence of Sirius Black in my life."

"You know it's true."

"What _are_ you doing?" Peter asked, peering over the werewolf's shoulder. "It looks like someone got drunk on square-and-rectangle cocktails and then puked on your parchment."

"It's a map, actually," Remus said, leaning back to examine his work. "I'm drawing a map of Hogwarts. It's only a rough one because I don't have all the measurements, but I thought that if I mark down all the places of the rooms we know, we might be able to guess by the gaps in the map where there are more secret passages and rooms. It won't always work, because the castle is magical, but I reckon that's a better way of finding them than just setting Filch on James."

James shook his head in admiration. "You really _are_ a genius, Moony. I would never have thought of that."

Sirius loved the way that Remus's face glowed proudly at the compliment, even as he ducked his head modestly. "So have you found any?" he asked.

"There's a gap here on the third floor, but I think that might be the Hufflepuff common room. We know it's around there somewhere. There's another longish gap here that looks like it could be a short cut from the Transfiguration rooms to the Great Hall." Remus pointed out the areas on the map as the others peered over his shoulder.

"Amazing," Sirius said, contemplating with delight all the mischief they could get up to if they knew the castle better than everyone else in it. "You just discovered two without even getting up from that seat."

Remus grinned. "Well, someone has to be the brains of the outfit."

"Wouldn't it be brilliant if we could magic the map so it could warn us if there was teacher in the room," James said, his eyes growing misty at the thought. "With that, and my invisibility cloak, just think of all the pranks we could pull."

They were interrupted by the magnified voice of the Gryffindor team captain, Alan Terrant echoing over the grounds. _"Will all those trying out for the team please line up on the Quidditch pitch!"_

Sirius and James leapt to their feet. "Wish us luck, lads," Sirius said.

"Not that you need it," said Peter. "Everyone knows that the two of you are the best in our year. And I heard that the fifth years aren't good either."

It turned out that Peter was not far wrong. Most of the students trying out for the team this year were mediocre at best. As Sirius waited for his turn, he could see the existing team members' faces growing more and more desperate with each new person. When James's name was called, he turned and winked at Sirius before kicking off the ground.

Sirius had always known that his friend could fly, but even he had never seen James playing as well as he did today. The messy haired boy looked as though he had been born on a broomstick. He ducked and swerved the bludgers with the quaffle in his hand. With graceful ease he spun and shot; the red ball soaring towards the goal posts and neatly through the hoop before the keeper was able to do a thing.

Sirius could hear cheers erupting from the Gryffindor stands and turned to see Remus and Peter on their feet applauding loudly. Peter's face glowed with something akin to hero-worship as he watched James do a victorious loop-the-loop in the air high above the ground and Remus, appearing to feel Sirius's gaze on him, turned and rolled his eyes, jerking his thumb towards Peter. Sirius laughed and shook his head.

Sirius's name was called next and he climbed onto his broom and kicked off. He wished now that his turn was not directly after James. His friend's amazing performance would be hard to follow.

It turned out that he needn't have worried. The existing Gryffindor team were pretty shoddy and Sirius had no problem ducking the bludgers they sent his way and knocking them off their brooms in return.

_Take that, Mum, _he thought proudly, as he swooped around to cheering from the field below. Perhaps no quite as loud as it had been for James, but it was close. _I can be a success._

He landed on the ground and was hammered on the back by a delighted James. "We were brilliant, mate!" he crowed. "There's no way they can't let us on the team!"

"I don't know," Remus's dry voice said from behind them. "If your ego gets any bigger you'll be too heavy to get off the ground."

James spluttered indignantly.

"I'm just kidding," Remus said, ruffling James's hair. "You were brilliant. You both were." He turned and pulled Sirius into a quick one-armed hug and Sirius caught a brief trace of that warm autumn-leaf smell as he pulled away again.

"You _really _were," Peter said, staring at James with admiration.

"I think Peter fancies you now, mate," Sirius said, then ducked to avoid the punch the chubby boy aimed at him.

"I do not!" he said, blushing furiously.

"I'm not that bad," James protested.

"I'm sure Evans would beg to differ."

"Speaking of fancying," Remus said, "you should have seen the number of girls that nearly fainted with delight when you two were up there. I'd watch out for Rosemary Turnabout, Sirius. She was displaying some rather alarming stalkerish tendencies."

"Really?" Sirius searched the stands for a glimpse of the girl. "She fancies me?"

"_All _the girls fancy you, Sirius," James said. "I thought you knew that."

"I didn't think it was _properly _fancying," Sirius said. "Not like going-out-to-Hogmeade-on-a-date type fancying."

"There's another kind?" asked James.

"Of course!" Sirius said, assuming a superior expression. "There's the I-just-think-you're-good-looking-but-I-don't-want-to-go-out-with-you fancying. And the I-fancy-you-but-am-too-much-of-a-coward-to-admit-it fancying. That's what you have with Evans, James."

"I do not fancy Evans," James protested.

"See!" Sirius said triumphantly. "You can't admit it."

"That's because I don't fancy her. I just think she's pretty."

"Lads!" Remus interrupted. They turned to look at him. "Just go get changed. Come on, Pete."

The two of them headed towards a willow tree under the lake to wait for their friends while James and Sirius headed to the changing rooms.

"Potter, Black?" They turned to find a victorious-looking Alan Terrant standing behind them. "You're on the team."

The Gryffindor captain was treated to two identically mischievous Marauder-grins and looked a bit worried. "No pranking the team," he added. "We're bad enough as it is without you two helping out."

"We would never!" James gasped as if Terrant had suggested he might let off a dung-bomb in the middle of his mother's funeral. "This is _Quidditch_!"

Terrant relaxed and smiled. "With you two on the team, we might even be able to pull ourselves out of our losing rut this year."

"We will!" Sirius promised fervently. "There won't be an un-bruised member of the Slytherin Quidditch team by the time I'm through with them."

Sirius finished changing before James and sauntered out the changing rooms to join Remus and Peter. He was so lost in a daydream of single-handedly engineering the win of the Quidditch cup that he jumped in surprise when someone tapped his shoulder. He swung round and felt his face break into a smile as he saw Regulus standing behind him.

"Just wanted to say well done," Regulus said, smiling at him for the first time in ages. "You really flew well today, you know. For a change I was actually happy to admit that I have a bumbling Gryffindor idiot for a brother."

Sirius smiled back, feeling his heart rise in his chest. "Thanks, Reg," he said. "I really – "

"Regulus Black!"

Both brothers turned and saw Bellatrix approaching. Lestrange and Rosier were trailing behind looking resigned.

"What?" Regulus demanded in a voice that was meant to be defiant, but sounded closer to terrified.

"What have we warned you about associating with that blood-traitor?"

"He can associate with whoever he likes!" Sirius snapped. "You don't own him just because he's in your house!"

Bellatrix sneered at him. "Don't talk to me you filthy little mudblood-lover! Regulus, I forbid you to talk to him. You know what will happen if you do."

"What?" Sirius turned to Regulus in alarm to see his brother's face turning pale. "Reg, what's she talking about?"

"Come on Regulus," Bellatrix said, her voice turning sickeningly sweet. "What has he ever done for you except get you into trouble? Who would you rather be with? Your House and your family, or that disgusting blood-traitor you call your brother?"

Regulus looked close to tears and his glaze flicked desperately between Sirius and the group of Slytherins.

"Choose you little brat!"

Sirius felt his heart ache as Regulus continued to waver. "Please, Reg," he whispered.

Regulus met Sirius's gaze with frightened grey eyes and Sirius saw the defeat in them. He watched as his little brother turned on his heel and walked away from him without looking back. He felt more betrayed than he ever had in his life.

"You see," Bellatrix sneered at him. "Even your own brother can't bear to be with you. You dug your own grave, Sirius Black. Too much a Slytherin for Gryffindor. Too much a Gryffindor for Slytherin."

Sirius's gaze flicked towards the changing rooms where he knew James was probably still trying to flatten his hair in front of the mirror.

Bellatrix's shrill laugh drew his attention back to her. "Him? Potter? He only made friends with you to get revenge on the Blacks. You don't think he really _likes_ you, do you? And those other losers you hang with. The fat boy and the nerd? They only stick around for Potter. You don't believe me? You'll see, blood traitor. Once day you'll be sorry you ever made friends with them. One day they will turn on you and leave you to rot alone and your family won't come for you then, because you have betrayed us."

"You're a dirty cow, Bellatrix!" Sirius hissed, hurt and betrayal filling his voice like venom. "You don't know what it's like to have real friends! Only followers who are too scared to disobey you! _You'll _be the one rotting in Azkaban one day, and when you are, I'll stand outside with my friends and laugh at you!"

Bellatrix just cackled, sounding more than a little unhinged and looked pointedly in the direction Regulus had gone in. "We'll see who's laughing at the very end, cousin. You just wait."

She turned and swept away, following the path back up to the castle, Letrange and Rosier close behind. Sirius was left alone, his fists clenched at his sides, his body trembling. He jumped violently when he felt a hand on his back and glanced round to see Remus standing behind him looking pale and shocked.

"_She's _part of your family?" he asked, staring after Bellatrix in horror. James's invisibility cloak hung from his right hand. Sirius looked at it pointedly. "Yup. That's the Blacks for you. I see you weren't clamouring for an introduction."

"It looked private," Remus said, blushing a little in embarrassment. "I didn't want to interfere, but I wanted to be by to help if you needed it."

"You wanted to be there to beat them up, if I needed you to," Sirius translated wryly.

"If I had to. That Bellatrix is evil. Why haven't your family disinherited her?"

"Disinherited her?" Sirius laughed, unaware of how disturbingly like Bellatrix he sounded in that moment. "My family _love _her. She is your archetypal Black. She is what any good Black strives to be. She is what Regulus will one day be once they've finished corrupting him." Sirius sighed, looking away from Remus, staring in the direction that Regulus had gone in. "I really wasn't kidding when I said I am the white sheep of the Black family. We've been dark for generations. And not so high up on the sanity scale either. All the inbreeding, you know."

Remus shuddered and put a hand on Sirius's arm. "You're not like that, Sirius."

Sirius just laughed again. Remus clenched his hand on his arm. "You're _not_!"

"C'mon," Sirius said, reaching down and gently removing Remus's hand. "Let's see where James has got to."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"I don't think we should tell him yet," James said. Remus was reading in the library so the three of them had taken the opportunity to have a Marauders' meeting about 'Operation Animagus' in the dorm. "You know what he's like with rules and stuff sometimes. And this isn't just school rules. This is the law we'll be breaking. I say we wait until it's too late for him to stop us."

"I know what you mean," Peter said, "but some of the spells are going to be really hard and we might need him to help us. We've had practically a whole year to look and haven't come up with anything. I bet he could lay his hands on the right book in two seconds flat."

"I'm with James on this one," Sirius said, imagining Remus's reaction if they told him what they were planning. "He and I are really good at spells and potions too, and we're getting better at research and stuff. If we tell Moony, he'll probably hide all the books on animagi in the library just so we can't do it."

"Yeah." James flopped back on his bed and stared up at the canopy. "How _are _we going to do it without him finding out? We can't just keep going as slowly as we did last year. Now we don't have detention every night, we need to spend more time looking."

"We'll have to take it in turns," Sirius said. "Whenever one of us is free, we go to the library and try to get information. We'll also have full moon days and days like these when he's off on his own."

"It'll be hard," Peter said doubtfully. "You know how observant he is."

"We have to try."

The three of them sat in silence for a while, then Sirius said, "It must be horrible. You know – having to go through all that every four weeks. I don't know how he does it. I would have given up by now."

"Remus would never give up," James said with great certainty.

"I don't know," Sirius said. "That Christmas with his Dad - I think it was a close thing. I heard him dreaming the other night when I went to the loo. He was moaning and whimpering like a dying animal. He seriously didn't sound at all human. It was quite scary. And he kept saying 'just call them, Dad! I don't care anymore. Just call them or do it yourself. Please, I don't care anymore, just do it yourself.'"

James and Peter both looked horrified. "Merlin, are you serious?" James asked. Sirius didn't even consider pointing out the unintentional pun.

"Yes," he said softly. "It was really bad. That's why we have to do this. I don't think it was easy to get him that hurt and desperate, but everyone has their breaking point."

"What did you do?" James asked. "When you heard him having that dream?"

"I didn't want to wake him up," Sirius said. "I thought it would embarrass him. So, I went and sat by him and put my hand on his back. I think he smelled me, because he said 'Sirius' and calmed right down."

James tilted his head to the side reflectively, but didn't comment.

"How long until the next full moon?" Peter glanced towards the window. "I want to start looking for books as soon as possible."

"Couple of weeks," Sirius told him. "Still a while."

Peter sighed and turned away from the window again. "Poor Remus." He sat on the edge of his bed and kicked his legs restlessly. Eventually he stood up. "I'm going to get some food from the kitchens. Want any?"

"Yeah, okay," James said. Sirius nodded and the chubby Marauder wandered out.

Sirius stood up and went to the window as well, pulling himself up onto the ledge and looking out at the half-full moon.

"Remus told me about your cousin. Bellatrix." Sirius stiffened at James's comment, but he didn't turn around. He wished more than anything Remus had kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to talk about this.

"Are they really that bad?" James asked softly. "I always though my family were exaggerating, because the Blacks and Potters have been enemies for so long."

"It's okay," Sirius said, wishing his friend would drop the subject. "I'm used to it."

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't want to talk about it."

James was quiet for a while. Sirius heard him tapping his nails against his bedpost. "You know it's not true," James said suddenly. "What Bellatrix said. I didn't just become your friend to get back at your family."

"I know," Sirius said tiredly, pretending not to feel the small piece of doubt Bellatrix had raised in his mind melting away.

"You're my best mate," James continued. "Right from the beginning. I wouldn't want it to be anyone else."

Sirius looked over his shoulder and saw James's worried hazel eyes fixed on him searchingly. "Same here, mate."

"And if…" James hesitated, searching for words. "If you – you know – need to leave. If it gets too much or they kick you out, you can come live with me. My parents already said so. Mum is totally taken with you."

Sirius wasn't sure whether he wanted to smile delightedly or cry. He wondered how he could have possibly doubted his friend. James was sometimes a little callous and rough, but he was also everything a Gryffindor should be. Brave, noble and fiercely loyal to his friends.

"Thanks," Sirius murmured. "But I really am fine, you know. I'm used to them."

They both looked up as the door opened and Remus came in, carrying his usual pile of books.

"Hey guys," he said, yawning and dropping his books onto his bed. He looked at Sirius and frowned in concern. "You okay, Sirius?"

"'Course, Moony."

Remus's amber eyes flicked to James and Sirius saw something pass between the two of them. He wondered how much they talked about him and resolved to hide his family problems better. Remus had enough to worry about without having his friend's difficulties loaded onto his shoulders as well.

It was in an unusually sombre mood that the four Marauders went to bed that night, watched over by the half moon that hovered high in the sky outside the window, slowly beginning to take over more lives than just the one.


	34. It is all in the Wink

**Disclaimer: Nothing has changed since last time. I have not magically morphed into JK Rowling, and Harry Potter's world is still not mine.**

**Warning: Pre-slash**

**Hi! Another shiny new chapter for all of you that I hope you enjoy. My beta has informed me that Bellatrix should have already left school by now, according to canon. Since I somehow missed that important bit of information, I beg you all to pretend she is in seventh year and will leave at the end of this year. I would cut her out, but I have **_**plans**_** (meaningful eyebrow wiggle) for her in future chapters. Sorry for veering off canon. Aside from the slash, I do try to stay as true to it as I can.**

_All species capable of grasping this fact manage better _

_in the struggle for existence than those which rely _

_upon their own strength alone: _

_the wolf, __which hunts in a pack, _

_has a greater chance of survival than the lion, _

_which hunts alone._

_ (__Christian Lous Lange) _

**REMUS:**

_Dear Neil and Angela,_

_I hope you are both okay. I know it's only been a couple of months since the beginning of term, but I am already looking forward to seeing you over the Christmas holidays. Don't worry about not being there the first full moon of the term like last time. My pack was there so I was fine._

_Madame Pomfrey says she and Professor Slughorn might have come up with a potion that will help me get rid of some of my burn scars. It won't help as much on the injuries I have done to myself as Moony, but it might make them go down a bit. She says it will be very painful, but I think I will go ahead and do it. It would be brilliant to be able to look down at my body and not feel so revolted by what I see. _

_I was also wondering if you would tell me a bit more about the Black family. It's so hard to tell what's true and what's rumour. I'm very worried about Sirius. His little brother was put into Slytherin at the beginning of last year and it has really changed him. It's breaking Sirius up, and some of the things he says make me wonder what goes on at his home. I think it might be much worse than he lets on. _

_James and Sirius got onto the Quidditch team and it has already improved drastically. The other players are still a bit rubbish (except for the captain), but hopefully Gryffindor won't come last for the Quidditch cup as they have for the last five years. _

_It's almost Halloween and James and Sirius are dying to pull a prank at the feast. After the prank last Christmas I'm determined to try and tone it down a bit if I can because I don't think the rest of the school will be very impressed if they ruin it for them. Also, I think we could all do without another six months of detention._

_Anyway, I have to go as it's the first Hogsmeade weekend today and the others are about to eat through the walls in anticipation. _

_Love, _

_Remus _

"Are you _finally _finished?" Sirius demanded impatiently, flopping down hard on Remus's bed, and causing his signature to come out shaky on the bottom of his letter.

"Sirius," Remus complained, swatting his friend's head. "Look what you did."

"Well, you've been writing for ages and we want to _go_!"

"Okay, but can we go past the Owlry on the way?"

Sirius grinned and leapt to his feet, appearing not to care about any detours as long as they were on the move towards Hogmeade. "So me and James and Pete have come up with an idea for the Halloween prank," Sirius said as though he were carrying on a conversation that had been briefly interrupted.

"Oh really." Remus felt stirrings of suspicion. "Does it involve dung bombs, Peeves, Slytherins with pink hair, and a lot of screaming?"

James and Sirius stared at him. "No, but that sounded interesting," James said eagerly. "Do continue."

"Not on your life," Remus said. "So what's your plan?"

"Well, James and I discovered this amazing fake spider web stuff the other day in Zonko's…" He broke off, looking slightly guilty when Remus stopped and stared at him.

"You three sneaked into Hogsmeade again?" Remus glared the other three boys who cowered back guiltily, even though they were all taller than him "You _promised _you wouldn't after last time! And if you were set on going you should have at least taken me!"

"You were off in the hospital wing," Sirius said, looking at Remus with pleading grey eyes. "And you would have stopped us if we told you. We didn't just go there to mess around. We went to look for books on…" he trailed off and looked away as James made a warning noise.

"Books on _what_?" Remus demanded. "Prank pulling? Hurting Slytherins? Quidditch? You're all so irresponsible!" He was vaguely aware that he was shouting and that they were attracting the attention of other students in the corridor.

"No!" Sirius looked horrified and hurt. "It was for _you_!" He slapped a hand over his mouth and shot a guilty look at Peter and James who were glaring daggers at him.

"What?" Remus felt the wind leave his sails and was suddenly aware that his letter to Neil and Angela was crunched up tightly in his hand.

"It was for you, Moony," James said, taking over and giving Sirius a look that clearly told him to shut up. "We've been trying to find something to help you… you know… not get ill so much. But we couldn't find many useful books in the library without sneaking into the Restricted Section, so we went to the bookshop in Hogsmeade to see if they had any there."

Remus stood still in the middle of the corridor and stared at their faces. Peter looked frightened, Sirius hurt and guilty, and James apologetic and earnest. Remus found he couldn't meet their gazes for long and turned away, walking towards the Owlry without looking back. The others hurried to follow them.

"We didn't mean to make you angry, Moony," Sirius said, grabbing his arm and trying to stop him walking. Remus shook him off and continued up the stairs.

"Please, Remus," said Peter meekly. "We really are sorry."

Remus opened the door and walked in. The owls that had been roosting around the entrance, sensing a dark creature, took off to the other side of the large circular room eyeing him warily. Remus suddenly felt a wave of tiredness wash over him. He leant back against the wall and pressed his hand against his closed eyes.

"I'm not angry," he said after a while, aware that they were all watching him uncertainly. "I'm afraid. How am I supposed to protect you if you go off like that alone?"

Remus heard a sharp intake of breath, then suddenly there were two warm bodies on either side of him. He lifted his hand away to see James and Sirius standing beside him, and Peter in front.

"It's not your job to protect us," James said.

"Yes it is," Remus answered, not looking at him. "As the strongest member of the pack it _is _my responsibility. But I can't do it if you deliberately _put _yourselves in danger!"

"It's who we are, Moony," Sirius said. "We don't mean to frighten you or put ourselves in danger, but we can't change who we are. You also need protecting and we're damn well going to do that for you. We just have to find out how. If you wanted a nice, calm, un-ambitious pack, you should have chosen Hufflepuffs."

"There's nothing you can do for me," Remus whispered. "Do you think I haven't looked? I would much rather have you safe than running off looking for non-existent cures." He hesitated, unsure of how much he should say, but desperate to make his point. "I don't think I could survive if I lost any of you."

"You're not going to lose us, Moony," James said. "We promise we won't let that happen. We'll grow old and crazy together and end up cackling at the good 'ol days while we eat sherbet lemons like Dumbledore. We wouldn't leave you alone."

Remus shook his head. "Don't make promises you can't keep. My mother used to say things like that."

"If we can't make promises we can't keep, then don't ask us to promise to stop being Gryffindors and Marauders," Sirius said gently. "We didn't do it to hurt you, Moony."

"I know." Remus sighed and shook his head. "It's okay. I just hate to think of Death Eaters getting hold of you." He pushed himself off the wall. "Let me just post my letter, then we can take a legal trip to Hogsmeade for a change."

"Here, let me," Peter took Remus's letter and approached the school owls who were still eyeing the werewolf with distrust.

"So anyway," Remus said, in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere as they headed out of the castle in the direction of the town. "What is this brilliant prank that you three are planning?"

"Oh, that!" Sirius said, as the other Marauders' faces brightened at the thought. "We're going to charm the carved pumpkins in the Great Hall to expand and grow eight legs like spiders. Then they'll ambush Slytherins and fling them into these giant sticky webs that you can buy at Zonko's. The only way you can get free is by casting a fire spell on the webs so they shrink away like devil's snare, but the Slytherins don't know that. It's brilliant isn't it?"

Remus sighed. "Why do you always target Slytherins?"

"How can you ask that, Moony?" James looked scandalised. "The Slytherins are our mortal enemies!"

"Well, it's a good plan if you can pull it off," Remus said. "But I reckon we should target the whole school. That way there are more people to blame, more people to laugh at, and more people to confuse the chase once they figure out how to get free and come after us. After 'Operation Battle Robot' I don't think there's much chance they won't guess who it was. And we must just make sure no one's life is in danger. That's what got us in trouble last time – those nearly-squashed Hufflepuffs."

The other three grinned at him. "I knew there was a reason you were a Marauder, Remus," Peter said cheerfully. "And it means we have even more people to prank."

"Always a good thing," Sirius agreed.

They entered the village that was swarming with Hogwarts students, most of whom seemed to gravitate towards the giant sweet shop, Honeydukes, Zonko's and the pub, The Three Broomsticks. James and Sirius, of course, immediately made a beeline for Zonko's. Peter gave a longing look towards Honeydukes before following them.

"I'm saving most of my money for sweets and chocolate," he told Remus as they entered Zonko's. "We always come here first and I regret it when I see all that lovely food."

"Me too," Remus said. "Neil and Angela give me a bit of pocket money now, but I'm not wasting it on dungbombs to throw in Slytherin cauldrons. You can't really blame those two, though. They don't really know what it's like to have only a little money. That's rich purebloods for you."

"I hope you're not talking about us." James and Sirius sauntered over to Remus and Peter, their arms already loaded with new joke products.

"Yup," Remus said airily. "Spending all your money on pranking stuff when there are piles of chocolate down the road just waiting to be bought.

"That's the talk of a chocoholic, Moony," Sirius said, going up to the counter to pay. "I think you might have a problem. We should wean you off. It can't be healthy."

"No!" said Remus in alarm. "Anyone who touches my chocolate must be prepared to deal with the consequences."

There was laughter from behind them and they turned to see Lily, Rebecca and Alice standing in the doorway to the shop. "I'm sorry, Remus," Lily said, trying to stop laughing. "It's just that you're so much littler than them and you looked so fierce."

"He _is _fierce," Sirius said fervently. "I have no plan to steal his chocolate now."

"Who, Remus?" Rebecca asked, staring at Remus with disbelieving blue eyes.

"Oh yes," James agreed. "Who do you think masterminds all our pranks? He knows more spells and jinxes that all the rest of us put together."

Remus scowled at his friends and they pretended to cower away. "That's not funny."

"Oh, you love us really," Sirius said.

"So what are you up to, Evans?" James asked. "Come to check out the best looking guys in the school?" he ran a hand through his messy hair, in what he obviously considered to be a suave manner.

Lily made a disgusted face. "Don't flatter yourself, Potter. We're just going." She stomped out, followed by Rebecca and Alice. Sirius winked at Rebecca as she passed him and she turned as scarlet as her Gryffindor badge.

"Nine," Remus commented.

"I know," Sirius said. "Good isn't it?"

"Nine what?" Peter asked.

"Nine girls now seriously lusting after our Sirius here."

"It's all in the wink," Sirius said. "I thought that since I'm now fourteen, I should start practicing."

"Maybe you should give James lessons," suggested Remus as they finished paying and headed towards Honeydukes. "I don't think Lily was that impressed."

"She was!" James protested, then flushed almost as scarlet at Rebecca had.

"See!" Sirius said triumphantly. "I told you he fancied her!"

"So what?" James looked defensive. "She's very pretty!"

"Potters and redheads," Sirius said, shaking his head.

"Blacks and insanity," James said, imitating him.

"Touché." Sirius looked unconcerned as he lounged against a display case and eyed up the chocolate within. "Look at that, Moony."

Remus leant over and felt himself resisting the urge to drool at the sight and smell of the exquisitely wrapped chocolate delicacies within. They were way beyond his price-range, but he couldn't resist staring.

"You want some?" Sirius asked.

Remus backed away quickly. "No, it's okay. I'll get some of the ordinary stuff." He smiled at his dark-haired friend. "It's all in the quantity, not the quality."

"Chocoholic." Sirius smiled at him fondly, his grey eyes dancing. "I meant I'll buy it and you can have some."

"I know what you meant. But you shouldn't waste your money."

"Nonsense," Sirius said. "It's not my money. It's my parents'. I love wasting it. I'll probably be disinherited before they die and it becomes mine anyway."

In spite of Remus's protests he bought a massive box of the most luxurious chocolate available, much to the amusement of the sales clerk who seemed to think he would regret it the next time he looked at his pocket-money savings.

"You should have just told him you're a Black," Peter said as they wandered into The Three Broomsticks.

"Why?" Sirius asked. "I'd rather have him laughing at me than sneaking glances at me to see if he can spot signs of dark spells or insanity."

"Good point," Peter conceded. "You would also be admitting to sharing blood with her." He pointed off towards one corner of the pub where Bellatrix and a few of her Slytherin cronies were huddled together whispering.

Sirius made a face and chose a table as far from his cousin as he could get.

"Cough up, gentlemen," James said, returning from the bar with four foaming butterbeers. "I may be a Potter, but my parents believe in restricting my pocket money to teach me responsibility or some other such rubbish."

Grinning, the other Marauders dug into their pockets, and tossed James money for the drinks. Remus sniffed his suspiciously. It was slightly warm and smelt faintly of butterscotch. He took an experimental sip.

"You never had butterbeer before, Moony?" Peter asked him in surprise. "I thought everyone had, except for muggle-borns."

Remus shook his head, enjoying the way the butterbeer slipped easily down his throat and warmed his whole body that had become chilled from the cool October air. "My father didn't believe in giving good food and drink to animals," he said without thinking. The response was so ingrained in him that he hadn't even registered that he had said anything wrong until he looked up and saw the others staring at him in horror.

"Er..I mean..."

"Your father is an evil git!" James said savagely, his fingers curling round his wand that he had tucked into the pocket of his school robes. "He's _lucky _he's in Azkaban."

Remus looked down. "No, he isn't."

"Hey, what is it with us and having depressing conversations lately?" Sirius demanded. He pulled out his giant box of chocolates and thumped them down on the table. "Help yourselves. Apparently, there's a firewhisky one in there somewhere which I have booked."

All the Marauders immediately launched in, all problems forgotten for the moment in a haze of sugared delight. Remus was chewing thoughtfully on a strawberry and banana truffle when he glanced sideways and caught Sirius's worried gaze. He treated his friend to a very chocolatey grin and Sirius relaxed, reaching over to squeeze his hand quickly. "You look like post-moon-you when you do that," he said teasingly. "All happy and munching on chocolate."

Remus wrinkled his nose. "Don't tell me things like that. I try to forget as much as I can."

"Sorry, mate." Sirius grinned at him before reaching out to snag the firewhiskey chocolate from James's fingers before the other boy had a chance to eat it.

Remus watched Sirius pop it into his mouth and thought to himself that he couldn't blame all the girls for falling for his friend. He really was a wonderful, exciting force of nature all on his own. Remus feared for the day that Sirius would become tired of him and move on to more outrageous and confident friends. Remus knew he would be left behind, and that he would never be able find anyone to replace him.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus had never seen his fellow Marauders more devoted to pulling a prank perfectly as they were for 'Operation Pumpkin Spider'. The three of them made constant detours for the library as often as possible, though once there, did not seem to make much progress in finding the correct charms to make the pumpkins do what they planned. Remus wasn't sure if it was lack of skills in the research department, or whether it was just that James and Sirius in particular seemed to be unable to sit in a quiet room without feeling the need to create some kind of disturbance.

"It's all those studious little Ravenclaws perched round everywhere just begging to be pranked," Sirius explained one evening when they returned to the common room where Remus was helping Peter with his Herbology homework with nothing to show for a whole afternoon spent in the library. "It's distracting. They should be banned from the library."

"I'm surprised you two haven't been banned yourselves," Remus said, correcting another line on Peter's essay. "I'd have thought you would have been by now."

"We're Marauders. We're very sneaky," James said. He was distracted from further explanations by the arrival of Lily Evans through the portrait hole. "Hey, Evans!" he yelled to her. She turned and glared at him before flouncing off to whisper with her friends.

"You reckon she fancies me?" James asked wistfully.

Remus and Sirius tried to avoid looking at each other in fear that they might break down in hysterical laughter. Luckily, Peter came to the rescue. "Sorry, mate," he said. "I reckon you just need to give her time to get used to you."

That proved too much for Sirius who dropped to the floor howling with laughter. James stared at him in bemusement. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing," Sirius managed through his laughter. "Tickle in my throat."

Remus couldn't stop himself then and joined Sirius's outburst, rocking backwards and forwards on his chair as he shook with mirth. James and Peter exchanged confused looks.

"What's up with you two?" James demanded, looking affronted. "Why are you laughing?"

"'Do you reckon she fancies me?'" Sirius gasped, setting them both off again.

"Priceless!" Remus agreed, trying to catch his breath while he wiped his eyes.

"What?" James whacked Sirius on the head with a sofa cushion. "Stop laughing and explain!"

"I'm sorry, James," Remus said, taking pity on their friend. "It's just that _everyone _except you and maybe Peter _knows _that Lily thinks you're a bit, you know, annoying and um… arrogant."

"What?" James looked shocked. "No she doesn't!"

"She's not right," Sirius hastened to assure him, having apparently recovered from his fit of laughter for the moment. "But that's what she thinks."

"No she doesn't!"

"I'm sorry, but she does," Remus felt sorry for his friend as James's face fell. "You just need to show her that you aren't."

"Okay!" James brightened. "You wait and see. She'll totally fancy me by the end of the week. Sirius can you teach me your winking thing?"

Remus groaned as Sirius obliged, preparing himself for many long hours of pointless mooning and sighing from their bespectacled friend.


	35. Operation Spider Pumpkin

**Disclaimer: Much as I wish this was a 'claimer', it is not, and the wonderful world of Harry Potter belongs entirely to JK Rowling. **

**Warning: Pre-slash**

_**If you have made mistakes, even serious ones, **_

_**there is always another chance for you. **_

_**What we call failure is not the falling down **_

_**but the staying down.**_

_**(Mary Pickford)**_

**SIRIUS:**

"It didn't work," James said moodily, coming into the library and dropping down onto the seat beside Sirius.

"Ah. I wondered what held you up." Sirius shoved aside the book he had been flicking through and looked sympathetically at his friend's depressed face. "It didn't work?"

"She just said 'for heaven's sake, Potter!' and stormed off with her friends."

"Maybe you were doing it wrong. It always works for me. Watch."

Sirius leaned back in his chair so it was tilted on two legs. He spotted a pair of pretty Ravenclaw second-years at a nearby table and caught the eye of the little blonde one. He raised two elegant black eyebrows at her then winked. As predicted, she turned bright red and turned away, giggling with her friend.

James sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe I don't have the face for it?"

"It worked when you practiced on that Hufflepuff at lunch," Sirius pointed out. "Maybe Evans is just a really tough one to crack."

"Huh. Maybe. So, you found anything yet?" James looked over the mound of books surrounding Sirius and made a face.

"Nope. Moony wouldn't believe his eyes if he could see us right now. It's a good thing Peter's so rubbish at everything and can distract him with tutoring sessions."

"Yeah, this is really doing nothing for our image, you realise," James said mournfully. "And we're gonna have to present him with the spell soon, or he'll get suspicious. Even you and I can't be distracted enough to spend this long in the library without turning up a simple engorgement and animation charm."

Sirius sighed and pulled his book back towards him again. "I know. But it was a good excuse while it lasted. I just wish we could find something. You'd think someone _somewhere_ along the way thought to write down how to become an animagus."

"I know." James eyed the pile of books on the table with disgust, then sighed, grabbed one and opened it. "We've got another couple of hours here now."

They worked in relative silence for a while, only making frustrated noises when yet another book proved to be useless. It was almost closing time when James suddenly let out a triumphant exclamation of "Well colour me pink and call me a pygmy puff!" and shoved a copy of _Transfiguration spells: Advanced level 8_ under Sirius's nose.

"A pygmy puff, eh?" Sirius grinned. "Well, if you insist." He raised his wand and aimed it towards James's head. "Baby pink okay? Or would you prefer magenta?"

"No, _look_, you git! I found it!"

Sirius peered down at the book that James had shoved at him.

"…_most difficult form of animal transfiguration is the animagus transformation. This spell enables the caster to transform themselves into an animal both wordlessly and wandlessly with none of the excruciating pain of involuntary transformations experienced by creatures such as the werewolf. Animagi have to be registered with the ministry as soon as the first step of the process is complete and they have discovered their animal form. More information about this process and how it is performed can be found in Gertie Trebbletome's _Advanced Animal Transfiguration and How To Do It_…"_

Sirius felt a bubble of excitement grow and well up in his chest. He grabbed James round the shoulders and squeezed him as tightly as he could. "You are brilliant, James! Awesome! Evans doesn't know what she's missing!"

"Oi!" James protested, trying to wriggle out of Sirius's grasp. "Stop it, Sirius. And stop making highly disturbing comments like that as well. What if someone had heard?"

"But how are we going to find that book?" Sirius asked, ignoring James and picking up the book to read the passage again. "Gertie Trebbletome's Advanced Animal Transfiguration and How Do It?"

"That's what I was trying to tell you before you started molesting me," James said. "I recognised the name, Gertie Trebbletome, as soon as I saw it. The Potters are famous for being good at transfiguration and my Dad's a huge fan of hers. She's written millions of books. There's a whole shelf of them in our library at home. I saw them when I was looking in there over summer. I don't think the school would have them - except maybe in the Restricted Section – because they're really advanced and most people consider them to be written a bit archaically. She died a couple of centuries ago. I think she was a Transfiguration Master or something."

"Well, why didn't you think of her before?" Sirius asked in frustration, motioning to the piles of books surrounding them. "We've wasted over a year looking!"

"I don't know! I guess I didn't think. Her books are really hard to read. They're written in this really old English. I have never been able to get past one page."

"I don't care," Sirius said. "Write to you father and ask him to send you the book."

"I can't do that Sirius! For one, the books are really rare and antique and he would never trust me to look after one. For another thing, what would I say? 'Hi dad, this is your prankster of a son who wishes to innocently ask to borrow a seriously dangerous and advanced transfiguration book so he can do extra study for lessons.' The only reason he hasn't magically protected those books from me is because he thinks I would never have enough patience to plough my way through one."

Sirius winced. "Okay, maybe not. You'll have to steal it. And replace it with a fake one so he doesn't notice."

"The next time I will be home is Christmas. Which you're invited to, by the way. Just don't let your family know you're not staying at school."

"Christmas is such a long way away, though" Sirius complained. "He will have had three transformations before we've even got the book." He glanced towards the window where the moon hung almost fully rounded indicating Remus impending transformation the next night. He thought about going to James's house for Christmas and felt himself brighten up a bit. "Can I really come to your's for Christmas?"

"Of course," James grinned. "Can't have my best friend hanging round that grim, old place where your family lurk."

Sirius smiled at the play on words. "So we can tell Remus we've found the spell now?" he asked, pulling the piece of parchment he had been carrying around in his pocket for the last couple weeks and glancing over the details of their Halloween prank spell. "We're not going to be able to do anything else until Christmas anyway."

"Yeah, come on," James said, getting to his feet and swinging his bag onto his shoulder. "I don't think I can bear to spend another minute in here if I don't have to. All these books…" he shuddered. "I don't know how Remus finds it restful."

Sirius smiled fondly. "That's just our Moony for you." They wandered out the library and back towards the common room.

"We should all get nicknames like Moony," James said. "Marauder names. Depending on what type of animal we become."

"Ooh, definitely!" Sirius said, contemplating the possibilities. "What shall I be?"

"I don't think you can choose," said James. "Reading that passage it looked like you have to discover your 'inner animal' or something."

"Oh yeah," Sirius said, feeling disappointed. "I'd better not be something pathetic like a hedgehog." James sniggered.

"Moooooony!" Sirius yelled as soon as the two of them entered the common room. Remus looked up from where he was playing exploding snap with Peter, who looked a little singed round the edges. Peter's completed homework was lying beside them. A corner of one of his essays had burnt off.

"What?" Remus asked, absently batting out a small fire on the hem of Peter's robes.

"We found it!" Sirius said excitedly. "We found it, look!" he thrust the parchment with the spell on it into Remus hands before giving a very small nod to Peter who was staring at him with questioning delight on his face.

"It looks good guys," Remus said, looking over the spells. "As long as the engorgement charm doesn't clash with the animation and transfiguration charms you're using."

"It won't, we've checked," James said proudly.

Remus raised his eyebrows. "Wow, who'd have thought? You two checking something before rushing into it head-first."

"Our pranks are always well-planned and executed," Sirius said, pretending to be offended.

"Yes, it's only insignificant things like homework that suffer from your ingrained Gryffindor tendencies," Remus said dryly. "I reckon I'm going to head to bed now." He yawned and began gathering his homework items together, before standing up a little unsteadily. Sirius suddenly noticed how drawn Remus looked a day away from the full moon. His body looked slender and vulnerable beneath his too-large school robes, and his tawny hair hung wispily around his pale face. Sirius longed to yell out that it would be okay – that they were working on something to help him, but he bit his tongue and said nothing except "Night, Moony."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Plans for the Halloween prank went smoothly over the next couple of weeks. James and Peter procured frighteningly large quantities of fake spider web from Zonko's while Sirius and Remus worked on preparing the charms for the pumpkins. Then Sirius and Remus were allocated the job of hanging the webs throughout the castle on the morning of the thirty-first of October while James and Peter set the timed spells on the carved pumpkins that hovered among the candles below the charmed ceiling of the Great Hall.

Luckily for Remus and Sirius, the members of staff, led by Professor Dumbledore, had excelled themselves with the Halloween decorations this year, so a few more giant spider-webs among those that Professor Flitwick had charmed to hang from the ceilings were not really noticed.

"I hate brooms!" Remus moaned, as he hovered high above the floor of the high-ceilinged corridor that led to the massive main entrance of the castle. His wand was raised so it could warn him if anyone had set off the two detection charms he had placed on either end of the corridor, while Sirius hovered beside him, gripping his broom hard with his thighs as he used both hands to attach the web. "And I wish you would hold on with at least one hand," Remus continued, trying not to look down at the floor below. "I won't be able to catch you if you fall."

"I'm not going to fall, Moony," Sirius assured him, leaning back a bit to examine the effects of his web. "I take both hands off all the time when I'm playing Quidditch."

"I know. I try not to watch."

"I'm almost done here anyway. Just need to trigger the stickyness charm." He tapped the web three times with his wand and it immediately went from resembling thick, furry grey wool to realistically sticky spider web.

"Don't touch it," he warned Remus. "We'll mess it up if we have to free you."

"Can we go now? Wolves aren't meant to fly. Moony's complaining."

Remus's voice was a little deeper and rougher than usual and Sirius looked over sharply to note that Remus's face had indeed changed a little. His normally gently angular features now seemed more pointed and feral, and there was a flash of gold in his amber eyes. For some reason he could not fathom, this glimpse of Remus's wilder side made Sirius's heart rate quicken with something that wasn't quite fear and more closely resembled the nervous excitement he felt just before pulling a truly spectacular prank.

"There's just one more web," Sirius said, trying to ignore these inexplicable feelings as he addressed his friend. "But we can leave it off if you like. There's more than enough – "

He broke off as Remus's wand gave a warning buzz.

"Someone's coming," Remus hissed. "Quickly – up here."

He flew over to land on the narrow stone ledge that lined the top of the gigantic main doors of the school and shrunk back into the shadow of a small alcove created by the intricate stone carving around the door. Sirius, following him quickly, couldn't help marvelling again at how Remus could so effortlessly melt into shadows. The little alcove was not big at all, and when Remus pulled Sirius in with him, Sirius's slightly taller frame blocked all light from entering while Remus stood squashed against the back wall, entirely in the dark.

Sirius couldn't help the instinctive fear he always felt when faced with impenetrable darkness and enclosed spaces. He once again felt his heart rate pick up, this time in fear. He shifted and turned his head to look over his shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of light, but Remus grabbed his chin and turned his face back.

"Your hair and robes are black," he hissed. "If someone glances up they won't see us if you don't turn your head."

"Right," Sirius grated out, trying to swallow his irrational fear. Remus was here. There was nothing that would hurt him. He wasn't alone.

There were footsteps and laughing beneath them as students came down the corridor towards the Great Hall, passing them, then turning the corner out of sight. Sirius felt Remus shift and suddenly there was warm breath on his face as the werewolf leaned forward. He felt his own breath catch in his throat.

"It's just me," Remus whispered very softly. "You know that. Why are you afraid?"

"I'm not," Sirius snapped, just as softly.

"This close, I can smell that you are."

"Keep your bloody wolf senses to yourself!" As soon as he had uttered the words Sirius regretted them. He felt Remus recoil and was flooded with guilt.

"Moony, I'm sorry! I didn't meant it!" He took a step back without thinking – a big step. Suddenly there was nothing to step onto and he realised he'd missed the ledge they were huddled on. He caught a brief glimpse of Remus's horror-stricken face before he fell back, his arms wind-milling uselessly in the air.

"_SIRIUS!_" The cry was anguished and Sirius glimpsed a tawny blur appearing over the edge of the narrow ledge before an iron-like grip closed round Sirius's right wrist. There was a loud popping sound and he stopped falling with an abrupt jerk. Panting in fear, he tilted his head up to see Remus holding up Sirius's entire weight with his left hand while his right clung onto a piece of carved stone filigree in a death grip that was all that was keeping them both from plunging thirty feet to the hard, stone floor. Remus's fingers were white with the strain and Sirius could feel him shaking. Even for a werewolf, holding up Sirius's entire body-weight as well as his own with one hand was an almost impossible task.

"Don't drop me!" Sirius begged.

"Never," Remus panted back. His amber eyes were wide and watery but they looked oddly calm. "I got you. I won't let go. I promise."

"Can you pull me up?"

"Not like this," Remus confessed, "and I dropped my wand."

"Me too." Sirius looked down to see it lying far below and regretted it when he saw the distance he had to fall. All that lay between him and his death were the slender, pale fingers clasped tightly round his wrist.

"S-s-scream then?" Remus panted, his face now flushed and carrying a sheen of sweat.

Sirius nodded.

_"HELP!_" they screamed. "_HELP! PLEASE!_"

They were both so frightened and out of breath their voices hardly carried at all, but to their utter relief they heard the sudden sound of approaching footsteps.

"…Thought I heard someone yelling," said a familiar voice.

Remus and Sirius exchanged desperate looks before screaming again, "_Help! Lily! Evans! Help, Quickly!"_

"That's Sirius and Remus!" This time it was an even more familiar voice and Sirius found a new burst of energy as he screamed _"JAMES! GET OVER HERE YOU GREAT GIT, BEFORE WE DIE!_"

Sirius forced himself to look down again as four people hurried into view. James and Lily leading, and Peter and Frank just behind. When James looked up and spotted his friends, he swore loudly.

"Oh Great Merlin!" Frank yelped, seeing them as well. Lily and Peter could only stare, open-mouthed, as the blood drained from their faces.

James visibly straightened and pulled out his wand. "Remus hold on! I'm going to cast a lightening charm on him!"

Sirius felt an odd sensation flood his body, as though he had been dipped into a fizzy drink.

"Let him go, mate," Frank said. "We'll catch him with a hover charm. Merlin only knows how you were holding him up to begin with."

Sirius gave a frightened sob as he stared down. He didn't want Remus to drop him. Remus apparently felt the same because he gasped, "Not on your life," and began to inch back, pulling Sirius up with difficultly, in spite of the lightening charm. Sirius scrabbled for the edge with his hands and feet and eventually managed to get a grip and pull himself up just as a tingling sensation indicated that James's rather weak and hurried charm was wearing off. Remus remained where he was, dangling over the edge with only his one hand supporting his weight. He appeared to be unable to move.

"Moony?" Sirius reached out and pulled the smaller boy back onto the ledge with him, reaching out to pry Remus's fingers from the carved stone decoration. It was only when he saw little crumbs of broken sand-stone clinging to his friend's hand that he realised how hard Remus had been holding on. Remus's wrist and fingers looked odd too – deformed and crooked. Sirius glanced at his other hand and saw it was in the same condition.

"Remus! Your hands!"

"I th-think I dislocated m-my wrists and f-fingers," Remus managed to say. He was shuddering violently against Sirius's side.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Sirius said, putting his arms round the smaller boy and drawing him closer.

"_Sirius!_" James called up. "Get down here!"

Sirius peered over the edge and felt nausea rise as he saw the four up-tilted faces staring at them. He scrabbled behind him for the brooms, and pulled himself onto one with Remus in front of him. The werewolf couldn't grip anything with his damaged hands, so Sirius held him around the waist and guided the broom to the floor with his knees.

"I'm n-never flying again!" Remus mumbled, as he practically fell off the broom to be caught by Peter and Frank. "Can we please go to Madame Pomfrey about my h-hands?"

He held out his broken, distorted hands and wrists and the others gave yelps of shock.

"You were holding him up with hands like that?" Lily demanded.

"It was that or drop him! I wasn't strong enough."

"Moony, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Sirius couldn't think of anything else to say. To his shame he felt a tear escape and trickle down his cheek. He suddenly realised what the loud popping sound had been as Remus caught him.

Remus looked at him with surprise in his eyes. "It wasn't your fault. It was an accident. Madame Pomfrey'll be able to fix them in a jiffy. Then we can go to the feast. Does someone have my w-wand?" The fact that Remus swayed between Frank and Peter belied his brave words.

"We'll get your wand, mate," James assured him. "You and Sirius just go to the hospital wing."

Remus obediently turned in the direction of the hospital wing and managed to stagger there between Frank and Peter, with Sirius hovering protectively behind.

Madame Pomfrey was not impressed when she heard the not-entirely-true story of Sirius running down one of the moving staircases, tripping and almost falling over the edge until Remus rescued him.

"Honestly!" she scolded them. "There is a _reason _why there is a no-running rule in this castle!"

"We were in a hurry," Remus explained, then let out a yelp and a keening whine of pain as Madame Pomfrey's spell popped his bones back into place. Sirius was glad Frank had left with Peter to find out if James and Lily had recovered Remus's wand from the ledge. Those sounds would have given away Remus's identity for sure.

"Pulling some ridiculous Halloween prank, I'm sure," she said, sounding very stern, but giving herself away by the crinkling of a smile at the corner of her eyes

"Who, us?" Sirius asked innocently.

"Don't think I am taken in by that innocent look for a second, Mr. Black! Drink this, Remus."

"Why is he 'Remus' and I'm 'Mr. Black'?" Sirius complained as Remus gulped down a pain-relieving potion followed by a pepper-up.

"_He_ has manners."

"She has a point," Peter said as he and James walked in. "Another casualty, Madame Pomfrey."

Sirius turned to see James walking in with bright violet hair and a nose in the shape of a pig's snout.

"What happened to you?"

James scowled and slumped down on the bed next to Remus.

"He asked Evans to be his Halloween date," Peter helpfully supplied. "In fact, I think his exact words were 'I know you want to be my Halloween date, Evans. So how about it?' Then she called him a callous, unfeeling pig and zapped him."

"I guess this meant 'no'," James mourned. "What went wrong? We were actually having a nice conversation about the accio charm. Here's your wand, by the way, Moony."

"I reckon it might have been the manner in which you asked her," Madame Pomfrey offered, obviously making a valiant effort not to laugh.

"What was wrong with it?" James asked.

"Well, it wasn't very romantic, was it?" Remus offered.

"Oh."

"We won't be late for the feast, will we?" Peter asked. "Only I'd be sorry to miss it." He gave his fellow Marauders a not-very-subtle look.

"I'm sure you will get there in time," Madame Pomfrey said, pretending not to notice.

It turned out they were ten minutes late, but it didn't matter since the prank was due to begin near the end of the meal. The Marauders were on the edges of their seats the whole time. Sirius noticed that even Remus, who could barely hold his cutlery in his still-stiff and slightly swollen hands, was practically glowing with anticipation.

The first pumpkins to begin swelling, of course, were over the Slytherin table. The orange fruits grew slowly at first, then faster, the speed at which they were growing slightly distorting the carved faces so they looked disturbingly like they were leering down at the students below. As other pumpkins around the room began to swell as well, the ones over the Slytherin table, which had reached about two metres in diameter, began sprouting legs.

People around the hall began noticing the change and gasps and squeals of surprise were heard from every table as the pumpkins grew and sprouted eight legs each. There was a breathless moment when the now spider-like pumpkins hung stationary in the air. Then the animating charm kicked in and the pumpkins descended in a giant orange wave. They scuttled to the floor and, before the students had time to react, grabbed them around the waists with their front arms and carried them kicking and yelling from the hall to toss them up with the aid of an in-built hovering charm so they landed in the sticky webs that lined the corridors.

The whole school was filled with screams as the students struggled to get free. Sirius was thankful that they had thought to retain the hovering charms on the trapped students, as some of them happened to cast the correct fire charm and found themselves suddenly free and drifting to the ground. If he and Remus hadn't dropped their wands as he fell earlier, the disaster could have been averted this easily for them as well.

As the students began to figure out how to free themselves, the screaming turned to shouts and laughter. Suddenly the corridors were filled with students of all ages laughingly avoiding the scuttling pumpkins in a bizarre game of tag that resulted in not only the ground, but the air as well being overrun with excitable adolescents.

The teachers, having given up on trying to disable the pumpkins, sought instead to implement crowd control and spontaneous lessons in the fire charm for the younger students who remained trapped until a kind elder thought to free them.

The Marauders threw themselves into the fray with everyone else, calling delightedly to one another as they flew through to the air to land in the webs and congratulating themselves on not restricting this prank to the Slytherins who would then have had all the fun on their own. Even Remus, who had started out looking terrified when a pumpkin-spider grabbed him, appeared to have forgotten his fear of flying and soared gracefully though the air to land beside Sirius with a wide grin on his face.

"I know I'm not going to fall and die like I would on a broomstick," he explained at Sirius's questioning gaze. "The charm keeps me safe and Moony doesn't have time to panic, because I'm only in the air for a short amount of time."

Sadly, the charms on the pumpkins wore off after an hour and they began spontaneously exploding and showering pupils and teacher alike with sticky orange sludge.

It was at this point that Professor McGonagall spotted the Marauders and made her way over.

"I suppose we have you gentlemen to thank for this evening's chaos and mayhem?"

The four of them assumed matching innocent expressions and protested vehemently.

"Don't try and deny it," she said tiredly. "Sir Nicholas saw you hanging up the webs. Apparently he thought you were just adding your own decorations to the halls. He should know better by now."

Sirius and Remus exchanged glances. They would have to think of a way to alter the warning charm to include ghosts.

"Two week's detention every night with myself or Filch and eighty points from Gryffindor," Professor McGonagall added.

"Only two weeks, Minvera?" the Marauders heard Slughorn ask quietly in a disapproving voice as she headed down the corridor.

"It would have been longer," she told him, "but you have to admit that that was some truly spectacular charm-work."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Sirius sat up late that night, the light of his wand hidden by his bed curtains while the others slept. He rolled up the right sleeve of his pyjama top and stared down at the ring of bruises that encircled his wrist in the form of a small hand with long, slender fingers. He had not mentioned this injury to any of the others. He did not want it healed. He knew he deserved it for what he had said to Remus a few seconds before he slipped off the ledge. He never would have believed he was cruel enough to come out with such a comment, even in a moment's blind fear.

These bruises represented the lengths Remus would go to keep him safe. Clinging onto Sirius with a hand that was literally popping out of its socket under the strain and still promising never to let him fall. Sirius knew he did not deserve Remus's friendship, and he treasured it all he more because of that.


	36. The Trials of Mrs Potter

**Disclaimer: This magical world belongs to JK Rowling**

**Warning: pre-slash!**

_Christmas is a time when you get homesick - even when you're home. _

_(Carol Nelson)_  
**  
**

**REMUS:**

The months leading up to Christmas were relatively uneventful for the Marauders. The terrible detentions they were subjected to under the care of Filch (usually involving the confiscation of wands, the dirtiest boys' toilets, toothbrushes and elbow grease) saw a brief reprieve in Marauder activity, even from James and Sirius. This was also partly due to extra Quidditch practices that were arranged to prepare them for the house match against Hufflepuff in November.

The day of the match dawned overcast and grey, which did nothing to dampen the spirits of the team's two newest players. Even Sirius – who usually didn't make a voluntary appearance at the breakfast table before eleven 'o clock – woke up bright and early to help James drag Remus and Peter out of bed and to the Great Hall.

"I don't want to wake up yet," Remus complained, as Sirius dragged him by his sleeve through the doors and to the Gryffindor table.

"Yes you do!" Sirius told him cheerfully. "It's your pack's first proper Quidditch match. You _want _to be here."

"No, I don't. I want a new pack. Some Hufflepuffs. Who don't enjoy Quidditch and hibernate in the winter."

"Eat this." Sirius grabbed Remus' hand, opened it, placed a piece of toast and a sausage in it, closed his fingers again and patted him on the head. "Good boy."

Remus stared at it sleepily. "I'm a wolf, not a dog. Where's Hamish?"

"Asleep in your pocket." Sirius ladled himself a huge portion of porridge and then poured half a jar of golden syrup onto it.

"I've changed my mind," Remus announced. "I don't want a new pack. I want to be a hedgehog. Then I can sleep when I like, get fed and carried around in someone's warm pocket."

"And transfigured into a pincushion," James reminded him.

"And charmed red and gold," added Peter.

Remus gave up and chewed sleepily on the sausage in his hand.

"We have a brilliant chance against Hufflepuff," James said happily, apparently unable to resist the subject of Quidditch for any length of time. "They are as rubbish as we were before we got us and got better."

"Don't talk," Remus begged. "You make my brain go fuzzy."

"I told you, you should get new friends." The boys looked up as Lily, Alice, and Rebecca seated themselves at the table, wearing Gryffindor colours in preparation for the match.

"Evans!" James looked delighted. "Come to watch us hammer the Hufflepuffs? Or is it just to admire my fantastic moves on the broom?"

Lily made a face as Remus groaned and bumped his head to the table. "Don't talk to me, Potter. It's too early in the morning to be feeling this homicidal." She pointedly turned her back and began dishing herself up some breakfast.

"You think we should give him some lessons in talking to girls?" Sirius whispered to Remus, chewing on a piece of toast as he watched the scene with interest.

"There's no point," Remus sighed. "That thick Gryffindor skull of his will repel any sense we try to knock into it."

"Are you two whispering about me?" James demanded.

"Why would you think that?" Sirius asked.

"Because you have that same helpless and exasperated look that all the teachers get when they talk about me," James said sulkily.

Half an hour and a lot of toast later, they finally escaped the hall and headed out towards the Quidditch pitch. Even though he was wrapped up well in a thick coat he had borrowed off James, Remus shivered as the icy November wind cut right through him. It was only a couple of days after the full moon and his resistance was always at its lowest point at this time.

"You all right, mate?" Peter asked, as the two of them headed towards the stands. "I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you weren't feeling well and wanted to go in."

Remus gave Peter a disbelieving look.

"Okay," Peter amended, "they _might _mind a bit, but once you explained why, they wouldn't. Especially Sirius. You know how protective he is of you."

"Yes," Remus said rolling his eyes.

"He just cares about you. Besides," Peter gave Remus a sideways glance. "You're just as bad about him."

Remus looked down, uncertain as to why the conversation was making him so uncomfortable. Friends were allowed to be protective on one another weren't they?

"I'm fine," he said to Peter, changing the subject. "I'm just a bit chilly." He grinned suddenly. "Some good Marauder-style cheering should take care of that."

Peter's face lit up. "You have something in mind? Is it hard? Could you teach me?"

"I'll teach you the easier bits," Remus assured him. "I found it in a book when I was looking up charms for the map. There were all sorts of things in there about animating images and stuff. Quite interesting, but nothing I could use for the map. I was hoping I could find a charm that would be able follow the staircases and moving rooms so they showed up in the right places on the map. And maybe warn us when teachers are approaching. I was thinking of altering the this fifth year charm that automatically writes the name of a person onto their clothes so that, instead, it would automatically write a person's name on the map to mark where they are…" he trailed off as he noticed Peter's face glazing over. "Peter?"

"Sorry!" Peter said, looking guilty. "I only got about half of that. It sounds good, but James and Sirius would understand it better. I really am sorry. I'm just a bit slow. You know that."

Remus felt sympathy well up inside him. "Hey, we all have our weaknesses, Pete. At least you're human. And you have strengths as well. You're loyal and you have a great sense of humour – brilliant in a Marauder. And you notice things too - things that James and Sirius miss all the time. About people and what they're thinking and feeling."

Peter stared at Remus. "You really think all that? Sometimes I feel like I don't belong in the group. Like James and Sirius will get tired of me one day and just abandon me."

"Me too," Remus whispered.

"You feel that?" Peter looked bemused. "They would never do that to you! Especially not Sirius."

"You can't know that," Remus said. "It's stupid, but something Sirius said the other day when we were hanging up the spider webs made me wonder what would happen when the novelty of me being a you-know-what wore off and they began to notice all the bad things about being friends with me. I know how you feel, Pete. Like you're just hanging onto their friendship until they suddenly turn around and see you clearly and realise they've made a mistake. But you know what I always tell myself when I feel that?"

"What?" Peter asked, his eyes wide.

"I tell myself that they have their faults and insecurities too. And that one of those faults is a complete lack of tolerance for anyone they feel the slightest dislike for. Think of the Slytherins, and Slughorn, and Snape. And what about the new DADA teacher – who seems to be competing with Binns for most boring teacher ever? They _never _hold back in tormenting them, do they? So they must _really _like us in order to let us into their group. Those two only do 'really like' and 'tormenting material'. Nothing in-between. Remember how they used to be to me?"

"Oh, Rem. I'm sorry about that!"

Remus smiled and shook his head. "You've all made up for that a thousand times. You have nothing to be sorry for."

The two of them climbed up the Gryffindor stands and wedged themselves among the rest of the fourth-years.

"Let me teach you the charm," Remus said and Peter obediently got out his wand. By the time the match was due to start, Remus was fairly sure that his friend had got the incantation and wand movement correct.

"Do it when the first Gryffindor goal is scored," he whispered to Peter, over the noise of the cheering as the players swooped in.

"What are you going to do?"

"You'll see."

They didn't have long to wait. Although many players of the Gryffindor team weren't exactly brilliant, the poor Hufflepuff team was even worse. Their chasers lumbered round looking lost as James and Tor Patil zipped in-between them, and their beaters – although not too bad – were no match for Sirius who rocketed around the pitch in a blur of motion, seeming to rain bludgers down on the opposing team. Remus glimpsed his face briefly as he paused to watch the Hufflepuff keeper spin out of control after being hit by a bludger. Sirius's head was thrown back, delighted, triumphant laughter etched on his features and his cheeks whipped rosy by the winter air while his black hair was tussled by the wind.

Something seemed to crack inside Remus in that moment and it spilled over, filling him with a warmth that started low in is stomach and moved up to his chest. _Wonderful,_ was the word that came into his head without him consciously thinking it._ Just wonderful._

He was jerked back to reality by Peter who jabbed him hard in the arm. "Remus! Wake up! He's scored!"

Remus jerked his head away from Sirius and spotted James doing a victorious swoop through the air as the stands shook under the weight of the cheering. He felt a sharp stab of guilt for missing his friend's first goal.

"Quickly, do the charm!" he urged Peter, before pulling out his wand and muttering his own incantation.

Streams of red and gold glittering light streamed from Peter's wand and rained down in harmless star-like sparks on the spectators. Peter looked utterly shocked and delighted that his spell had actually worked. From Remus's wand, a giant, glittering golden lion with a fiery red mane emerged and prowled gracefully up into the air above the Quidditch pitch. Remus concentrated and gave his wand another little flick. The lion turned and bowed to the Gryffindor team before throwing its head back in a triumphant manner that was strangely reminiscent of Sirius, and let out a great roar that drowned out the gasps and cheers. Then it exploded in a shower of scarlet and gold sparks that again rained down among the spectators.

Remus grinned proudly as the whole pitch erupted into more cheers, and felt that new warmth fountain up inside him again as Sirius swung round to stare at him in awe before putting two fingers in his mouth and letting out a piercing whistle of appreciation.

This display seemed to give the Gryffindor team new heart and the Hufflepuffs were left floundering in their wake. After twenty minutes of further play, the Hufflepuff seeker made a desperate snatch and managed to catch the snitch, but even then, the Gryffindors beat them by forty points.

"I'm going to go and wait for the others by the dressing rooms," Peter said, his eyes still starry and excited. "You coming?"

Remus tucked his hands under his armpits and jumped up and down as a new burst of icy wind blew over them. "I might wait down there in the shelter of the stands," he said, his teeth beginning to chatter. "Pick me up on the way back to the common room?"

Peter grinned and nodded before running off.

Remus shivered again and edged around until he was standing almost completely under the Gryffindor stands, which acted like a wind-break. He was surprised when a little, huddled figure staring out towards the Gryffindor changing rooms indicated that he wasn't the only one who had sought refuge here.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

The figure swung round and Remus found himself confronted with a pair of wide grey eyes that looked almost identical to Sirius's except that Sirius's had never held that expression of cringing, fearful defeat and unhappiness.

"Regulus?"

"Don't talk to me!" snapped the boy, his gaze flicking towards the Slytherin stands where groups of green and silver clad students still lingered.

"It's okay, they can't see us," Remus assured him. "Were you looking for Sirius?"

"I don't want anything to do with that blood traitor!" Regulus's eyes belied his words as they turned, against his will, in the direction of the Gryffindor changing rooms with an expression of longing.

Remus bit his lip. "He's your brother. Your blood," he told Regulus as gently as he could. "That's so much more important than any stupid house prejudice. Nothing should come between you. He _misses _you, Regulus. It's tearing him up inside that you won't talk to him."

Regulus's eyes snapped back to Remus and he sneered, deliberately looking him up and down and taking in the state of his shabby robes and shoes, and the over-sized coat. "Blood?" he spat. "That's rich coming from someone who testified against his own father to have him thrown into Azkaban!"

Remus actually staggered back at the comment, a ball of hurt scrunching up behind his ribs and seeming to swell up to choke him. "That w-was different," he whispered. "Sirius loves y –"

"Sirius loves no one in our family," Regulus interrupted coldly. "He put up with me because he needed me to plant candles and parchment in the cellar for him when he got thrown down there for being too Gryffindor! He just wanted to corrupt me too!"

"No…" Remus said. "He's not like that at all…"

"No? Do you have any _idea_ how hard it is for me to be in Slytherin while he lounges around building up his reputation as the Gryffindor idol?"

"He doesn't mean…"

"No! He doesn't _care_! I thought he did, but he doesn't really give a damn."

Remus stared at him helplessly and Regulus lifted his chin and sneered again. "He _chose_ to be in Gryffindor," he told Remus spitefully. "Did he ever tell you that? The hat wanted to put him into Slytherin with the rest of us, but he _had _to be different. He doesn't _care _about you. Or Potter, or Pettigrew. You're all part of his armour and his weapons against us. It's all for us, not you."

The words hit home and Remus felt Moony rise up inside him in self-defence as pain seemed to sear through his chest and throat. "Get away from me!" he hissed desperately. He could _not _hurt Sirius's little brother.

"Hit a nerve?" Regulus taunted, unaware of the danger.

"_Get away!_" Remus wasn't even sure if he was talking to Regulus or Moony anymore. He _was _aware that his voice had deepened and that a vicious growl was fighting to get out. His nails bit into his palms as he clenched his fists tightly.

Regulus finally seemed to sense something and took a nervous step back. Moony howled triumphantly in Remus's mind.

"Regulus, get out!" Suddenly Sirius was there, herding his brother roughly out from under the stands while Remus stood with his eyes and fists screwed shut, desperately trying to regulate his breathing.

He smelled Regulus retreating. His scent was similar to Sirius's and he supposed that was why he reacted so badly to the smaller boy's taunts. Moony had reacted to them as though they represented the betrayal of a pack member.

"Remus? Moony? Look at me."

Remus forced himself to open his eyes and was once again confronted with stormy grey. This time, however, they held an expression of concern and care and something else that seemed to flare right in their depths. It reminded Remus strongly of that exhilarating emotion he himself had felt as he watched Sirius laughing on his broom.

Remus felt his breathing slowly becoming more regular as Moony retreated to the back of his mind. As the emotion ebbed, the cold of the winter air rushed back in and Remus felt his teeth begin to chatter again.

"What did he say to you?" Sirius asked, reaching out to pull Remus into a rough hug. "What did that _git _say to you?"

Remus leaned up against Sirius's chest breathing in that familiar blue-grey scent that _was _different to Regulus's. It was. He felt safe and protected and suddenly all the anger he had for Sirius's little brother drained away. _This _was what Regulus had lost. This was the reason why that scared little boy had lashed out at one of the people who had taken his brother from him. Remus couldn't blame Regulus because he had the feeling that he would do a lot worse than throwing a few taunts if he were in a similar position.

"Nothing," he sighed to Sirius. "It wasn't his fault. He was afraid and alone and he didn't know what else to do except lash out at me."

"He _shouldn't _have."

"Yes, he should," Remus whispered. "It might help them to accept him as one of their own."

Sirius let out a huff of air through his nose and squeezed Remus a little tighter before releasing him. "I thought you were going to attack him. I was so worried. For both of you."

"I know. Me too. I'm so glad you came when you did." Remus shuddered to think of what might have happened if Sirius hadn't arrived. "It was because he smelled a bit like you, I think. Moony associates that smell with pack."

"That could have been messy," James agreed, from where he and Peter were watching outside the shelter of the stands.

"Let's go inside," Sirius said. "I think you might actually be turning blue with the cold, Moony. We can't have you flaunting Ravenclaw colours like that."

"It's his inner Ravenclaw fighting to get out," Peter said. "I knew it was in there somewhere."

The started up towards the school at a jog in an effort to keep warm.

"By the way," Sirius said, turning to grin at Remus, "That lion was _awesome_. Best thing you've ever done aside from the ice-prank, I reckon."

Remus grinned back, his stomach squirming delightedly at the praise. "We needed the first match with Marauders in it to be memorable," he said. "Besides, you two were awesome too. You needed something to mark the occasion."

"I think we need something else as well," James said. "Like a party and lots of food from the kitchen. And loud music."

"And that was James displaying awesome-ness of his own!" Sirius said, proudly slinging his arm around the messy-haired boy. "Lead the way, my friend."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It felt odd to Remus to be wishing his friends farewell that Christmas. The fact that they were a pack now made the parting more painful as he sat in Neil's battered car on the way to the Anders' small house in the muggle town, Hempstead Green.

"Are you all right, Remus?" Angela asked in concern, turning round in the passenger seat to study his expression. "You don't look very well."

"It's nothing," he assured her. "I'll just miss them, you know?"

"Is this a pack thing?" Neil asked, glancing at him in the mirror.

"I don't know," Remus admitted. "It could be a friend thing. I'm pretty new to both." He smiled reassuringly at them. "I've been looking forward to coming back all term."

"You have?" Angela looked delighted.

"Yeah. It'll be the first time I've had a proper Christmas since my mother died."

"Well, it's going to be amazing," Angela said. "We're going to have a huge Christmas dinner and eat until we're sick and then wake up in the morning and open all our presents together."

"It sounds wonderful," Remus said, but even as he said it, he thought of Sirius and the way that he had been forced to lie to his family to be able to spend Christmas with James. Remus wished he had been able to invite him to stay with the Anders as well, but their house was tiny and their resources almost as tight as his father's had been. Remus couldn't understand where all their money was going as they both had full-time jobs at the Ministry, but he didn't have the courage to ask.

"You can see your friends on boxing day," Neil said, obviously seeing Remus's expression grow pensive again in the mirror. "Mr. Potter spoke to me at work. He's also an Auror, you know. Though he's a bit higher up than me. Nice bloke. Said they wanted you to stay for the week leading up to the start of school. Do you want to?"

Remus felt his face light up. "Mr. Potter said that?"

"Yes," Neil said. "Do you know him?"

"No, but James talks about him a lot. He sounds nice. I just thought it was kind of him to invite me when he's never even met me."

Angela smiled at him. "Do you still find it so hard to hear that people are willing to give you a chance?"

Remus felt his smile falter a little. "Well, he doesn't know I'm a werewolf."

"It wouldn't matter," Neil said with certainty. "He said to me that you've been a very good friend to James. He said that James and Sirius talked about you all the time last summer." He grinned at Remus as he pulled into their drive. "He seemed to be under the impression that you owned a very badly behaved rabbit. Apparently he overheard James and Sirius discussing your 'furry little problem.'"

"My _what_?" Remus wasn't sure whether he should be touched or mortified. He opened the door and went round to retrieve his trunk from the boot. "Couldn't they have thought of a better code word for it?"

Angela almost fell out the car she was laughing so hard. One of her snake-like silk scarves clung onto the doorframe to hold her up, while the white stuffed dove that perched on her winter hat cooed loudly in protest.

"It's not funny," Remus told her indignantly, though he couldn't prevent his mouth from twitching into a smile as well.

"But it is!" she gasped, tears of mirth still on her cheeks, "Your furry little problem!" she started laughing again.

"Angela!" Neil said, mock sternly. "You'll scare the poor Muggles if you go on like that! And you shouldn't encourage her," he added to Remus.

"Encourage her?" Remus put his nose in the air. "I'm not the one who married her. You must have known what she was like."

"Hey!" Angela stalked to the front door. "For that, I'll let Remus cook tonight."

"NO!" Neil ran forward and fell to his knees at her feet. "I love you dearest Angela. I will do anything for you! Just don't subject me to Remus's cooking!"

Remus shook his head as he dragged his trunk inside. "And I thought James and Sirius were bad," he muttered.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The novelty of having a family who cared for him had not yet worn off for Remus. Christmas passed like a scene from a fairytale, a blur of rich dinners, laughter and warmth. The Anders did not have a lot of money, but Remus thought he couldn't have been happier had they lived in a castle and showered him with presents all the time.

Sadly, he could not remember much of Christmas day itself as his transformation had taken place on Christmas Eve, but the Anders solved the problem of this missed celebration by putting Christmas back a couple of days so their own private Christmas celebration occurred over the twenty-first and twenty-second of December rather than the twenty-fifth. Remus had been so touched by this gesture of care and love that he thought his heart might explode from love and happiness for his new family.

The last lingering nervousness about whether they would accept him melted under the warmth of the little living room fire and he sat on the floor against the sofa on the real Christmas day and Angela carded her fingers through his hair. He knew that at almost-fifteen he should be too old for this, but as long as no one else knew, he didn't think he could be blamed for craving this motherly attention. Especially as he was wrapped up in bandages and had only just recovered from his child-like state.

"I think you should floo the Potters and let them know you will come the day after tomorrow instead," Angela said, putting down her book and leaning forward to look at Remus's face. "You look very ill. You need to recover."

"No!" Remus sat up abruptly and turned to stare at her. "This moon was bad because my pack wasn't here. Please don't keep me from them. I've had an amazing time with you, but I really, really want to see my friends again."

Angela sighed, looking very worried. "Well, how are we going to explain your injuries?"

"I'll hide them," Remus said. "Like I always do. James and Sirius have already told them that I am ill a lot."

Angela sat back in her chair and looked away. "I just want you to be well cared for. I hate that you have to go through this."

Remus knelt up so he could meet her eyes. "Angela, you and Neil have done more for me than anyone has _ever_ done before. You've given me a family and made me comfortable, and I can't ever remember being this happy. You can't do any more for me. This is just the way I am."

"I know," she whispered. "And of course you can go to your friends tomorrow if you think you will be well enough.

Remus smiled. "Thanks, Angela."

She smiled back and lent forward to kiss his forehead.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It turned out that Potter Manor was in Surrey, right on the outskirts of London. Neil transported Remus there by sidelong apparition once the Potters had keyed them into their wards. It was an experience he hoped not to repeat in the near future – like being squeezed into a rubber tube that was just too small for him.

When he opened his eyes, swaying a little in pain because his injuries had been aggravated by the trip, he felt his mouth drop open in awe. They were standing on a long gravel driveway surrounded by green fields, woods and gardens that stretched out on either side. Ahead of them, framed by the horse-chestnut trees that lined the drive, stood the manor house itself. It was a massive, pale, stone building with high, arching bay windows going up five stories. Intricately carved sandstone pillars lined the front entrance which was a stone stairway leading up to a pair of large wooden doors.

Remus had never seen so much wealth belonging to one family outside of book. Although he knew his friend was rich, he had never dreamed that pureblood wealth placed James on the level of an aristocrat from times gone by. He suddenly wondered what Sirius's house looked like. He knew it was in London, so it probably didn't have the same extensive grounds, but he pictured it to be a massive stone building as well – though this stone would be dark and its carving sinister and dark in direct contrast to the Potter residence.

"Great Merlin, Remus," Neil said, standing beside him with an expression of shock to match his adopted son's. "You really do know how to pick your friends."

"I didn't choose him because he was rich," Remus protested still staring at the house. "Maybe you got the directions wrong."

Neil wordlessly pointed to the stonework above the door. It showed a coat of arms with the word 'Potter' carved in copperplate lettering beneath. The shield was backed by a golden sun and a lion reared up on one side with a hippogriff on the other.

"Shall we knock?" Remus asked nervously, as they headed up the drive to the house and up the stone stairs.

"I suppose so," Neil replied. He put his hand under Remus's elbow to help him up the stairs when he staggered a little on the way. "Let's hope they haven't got you on the top floor, eh?" He reached up and lifted the lions-head knocker, dropping it against the wood of the door. They could hear it echoing through the house beyond.

Shortly afterwards, there were three familiar whoops of delight followed by yells of "Remus is here!" and a swishing sound ending in a loud, resounding crash. This was followed by a woman's voice yelling "What have I told you two about sliding down the banisters! Honestly! And I thought having one boy was bad! _Reparo!_"

"Sorry, Mum!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Potter!"

The front door was flung open and Remus was suddenly knocked off his feet in a tangle of limbs as James and Sirius launched themselves at him. "_Moony!_"

Peter followed shortly at a more sedate pace as he climbed down the stairs rather than using the banister.

"Ow! Guys!" Remus gasped in a mixture of joy and pain. "I'm ill! Get off!"

"You're ill?" James sat up and looked at his face, obviously noting the dark rings beneath his eyes and the tightening the pain caused around his mouth. "Oh! Oh, I'm sorry, Remus. Did we hurt you?"

"No, no. I'm good," Remus assured him. "I would be even better if Sirius got off my chest and allowed me to breathe before I begin demonstrating my Ravenclaw colours again."

"Sorry!" Sirius said, climbing off and pulling Remus to his feet. "You don't look well, mate."

"I'm surprised he's breathing at all after that horrendous greeting you boys gave him," said a stern voice. Remus looked up to see a tall, willowy woman with very dark auburn hair and James's hazel eyes. "Hello, Remus."

"Hello Mrs. Potter," he said, aware that his voice had grown very small. She looked quite intimidating standing in the Potter's massive portrait-lined entrance hall in dark green robes with her long hair coiled elegantly around her head. Then her face creased into an expression of worry so like James's that Remus felt nearly all his nervousness leave him. "Sirius is right. You don't look well. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Remus assured her. "I get ill a lot. Yesterday was bad, but I'm perfectly fine now."

"Yesterday?" Peter asked, looking horrified. "As in Christmas day?"

"Yup," Remus said. "Pretty much don't remember most of it. It's okay though. I had an amazing Christmas before then."

"Is he really okay?" Mrs. Potter asked Neil.

"Remus is fine," Neil assured her. "He's put up with this for most of his life. He knows how much he can take. He has potions in his bag if he feels unwell, and he knows not to strain himself too much." He glanced at Remus a little uncertainly with that last statement. "You do know that, don't you Remus? I don't want to hear stories of you sliding down banisters or pranking anyone or exploding bits of parchment and setting the living room on fire or using any underage magic at all."

Remus huffed indignantly. "That was a mistake and you know it!" he said. "I didn't _mean _for it to explode. It had taken me ages!"

"You made something explode?" Sirius asked, looking delighted.

"I didn't mean to," Remus explained. "I was trying to charm the staircases on the map."

"Oh no!" James said. "What happened to the map?"

Remus made a sad face and mimed a dramatic explosion with accompanying sound effects before wincing and clutching his side.

"Sofas, curtains, carpet," Neil added to Mrs. Potter who was watching the scene with a mixture of amusement and trepidation. "All smoking, and Remus standing in the middle going 'my map, my map!' It took a lot of restoration spells, I can tell you."

"And you looked like such a sweet, well-mannered boy," Mrs. Potter mourned. "I should have known you would be another little prankster like these three."

"Oh, Remus is the brains behind our operations," James said. "He's brilliant! As long as you don't ask him to cook or make potions, 'cos then things tend to explode."

Sirius nodded gravely in agreement, and repeated Remus's mimed explosion from earlier.

"I wish you luck," Neil said to Mrs. Potter. "Putting these four together for any period of time can only be considered a recipe for disaster.

"James promised me Remus was a calming influence on them," Mrs. Potter said, looking doubtfully at the werewolf who treated her to a mischievous grin.

"I lied," James said cheerfully. "Come on, Moony. We'll help you take your stuff up. We're only one floor up. Think you can manage it?"

"I'll be fine," Remus said. He turned to hug Neil goodbye and smiled as the man ruffled his hair.

"No underage magic!" Neil called after him as James and Peter began lugging his trunk and Hamish's basket upstairs and Sirius put his arm around Remus's shoulders to help him up as well.

"Don't worry!" Remus called back. "I'll have to redraw the map before I try anything else!"

Strangely, that comment did not seem to reassure the man in the slightest.

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	37. Motor Bikes and Naked Girls

**Presenting you another lovely new chapter to enjoy. It's a long one, so I hope that makes you all even happier :P.**

**I'd just like to say a special thanks to my lovely beta, Hydraspit, who has been flat-out in an effort to get all these chapters to you in such short time. The poor thing has been inundated over the past few weeks. **

_"It is not so much our friends' help that helps us _

_as the confident knowledge that they will help us."_

_(Epicurus (341 - 270 BC) Greek philosopher)_

**SIRIUS:**

Christmas at the Potters was one of the most amazing experiences of Sirius's life. Perhaps the thing that felt the most special was the fact that the Potters never treated him like an outcast _or _a guest. They treated him as another son – hugging him, scolding him, giving him treats, allocating chores for him, playing Quidditch with him … it was something Sirius had never experienced before and as a result lapped up like a thirsty dog.

One of the first things he and James did when they arrived at the manor was to steal the book on animal transfiguration from the Potter library, replacing it with another one that they wrapped in the original's dust jacket so it didn't stand out from the others. James had not been kidding when he had described how complicated and archaic the text was. Together, they spent nearly all of their quiet time poring over the book trying to decipher the tiny copperplate words and put together manageable instructions on how to carry out the animagus transformation.

"Once we've worked it all out and tested it," James said, as they lay on their stomachs in his room getting some last minute studying in before Remus and Peter arrived later that day, "we must write the Marauder's version that's readable by normal people – and we'll definitely introduce the new and exciting letter 's' into proceedings. I mean - look at this!"

He held out a page and put his finger under a line which read; _When thou haft achieveft the defired effect to an exemplorie degree by initiating the altered _cave canus_ charm under the correctlie recommended conditionf, one fhould find the refulting canine to be fufficiently altered to the cafter's fatiffaction…_

"We need Remus," Sirius complained, tilting his head to the side to see if the passage made any more sense from a different angle. "He reads stuff like this for fun. What does 'fuffciently altered to the cafter's fatiffaction' mean?"

"'Sufficiently altered to the caster's satisfaction', I would imagaine, " James told him. "Just think - if you had lived in this era, you would have been called 'Firiuf'." He frowned down at the notebook in Sirius's hands. "So what have we got so far on animagi? And on a side note, do you know your writing is almost as curly and whirly as hers is?"

"It's not my fault," Sirius said. "My mother hired the best copperplate tutors in Europe to teach my brother and me. If we didn't write perfectly they would make us use those quills that scratch the words out on the back of your hand. It became ingrained rather quickly. Pun fully intended."

"Those quills are illegal," James said looking disturbed. "They could get put in Azkaban for that!"

Sirius raised an elegant black eyebrow at his friend. "The Moste Ancient and Noble House of Black? People would be more amazed if we _didn't _do things like that."

"Evil buggers," James muttered. "No offence."

Sirius shrugged. "We pride ourselves on it."

"So what _have _we got?"

"Well, we know you definitely can't choose your animal." Sirius flicked through the pages of his notebook. "It's part of who you are. And that you have to take a potion and meditate to discover what it is before you can even begin trying to change. We've worked out what most of the ingredients for that potion are, though some are a bit obscure and we're going to have to find a book on ancient herb-lore to discover what they're known as nowadays. Then there are more spells and potions and a _lot _of practice before you can actually become the animal. I hate to break it to you, mate, but I reckon it's going to be a very long time before we can actually become full animagi. Especially if we have to be sneaking around Moony all the time as well."

James sighed and traced the lettering on the cover of _Gertie Trebbletome's Advanced Animal Transfiguration and How To Do It_. "Well, it's the only plan we've got."

"I know."

The sound of the door-knocker echoed through the house and both boys brightened. "That'll be one of the lads," James said. "Quick, hide this stuff in my safe." He stood up and tapped one of the pictures in his room with his wand. It swung open to reveal a small safe filled with James's many 'treasures' – most of which were objects that no one but another mischievous adolescent boy would want to steal anyway

Sirius jammed the book and his notebook inside, before they slammed it shut and headed downstairs to greet their friend.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It turned out that it was Peter at the door. Remus arrived later, looking very pale and sickly due to the full moon the day before. Sirius felt himself relaxing for the first time in weeks as he helped his smaller friend up the staircase to his room. He hadn't realised how stressed he was when he was unable to check up on Remus until the tension left him. He glanced across and smiled when he saw Remus staring round Potter Manor wide eyes and open mouth.

"If you're not careful, nargles will come and nest in your mouth," Sirius teased him. "What's the matter – never seen a proper house before?"

"No," Remus murmured. "Not this big. I've never seen _anything _this big except for Hogwarts. Did you really grow up here, James?"

James looked at him in surprise. "Yeah. I though you knew."

"I didn't know it was this big. How long does it take to clean?"

James shrugged. "Who knows? The house elves do it."

"House elves. Right." Remus sounded rather faint.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Sirius said shaking his head in bemusement. "The Black country estate is twice this size and Grimmauld place is not much smaller. I thought most people's houses were this big on the inside."

Remus and Peter gave him incredulous looks and James said, "Do you even know how much it costs to get permission from the Ministry to make your house larger on the inside? Hundreds of Galleons just for a few square metres. Dad told me when I wanted us to install an indoor Quidditch pitch."

"Really?" Sirius asked. "My parents must have spent nearly all my inheritance on extending Grimmauld, then. My mother's taken it up as a hobby."

"I can't believe you don't know this," Remus said. "Don't you remember what my house looked like when you came to rescue me that time?"

"I didn't really think," Sirius admitted, picturing the tiny, poky living room and small battered kitchen they had walked through. "I guess I thought it was the house elves' entrance or something."

He was aware of the other staring at him and flushed. "Well, I only got to go to other pureblood houses when I was little and Hogwarts is pretty big as well."

"You so totally should have taken Muggle Studies this year," Remus said. "You and James both. Honestly! And I thought _I _had a sheltered upbringing."

"Wait!" Sirius said, stopping suddenly and turning to stare at Remus who was eyeing the top of the stairs with relief as he held onto his side. "You lived in that tiny house your whole life until Hogwarts?"

Remus looked embarrassed. "Well, Dad took me to Diagon Alley a couple of times."

"A couple of times?" Peter asked weakly. "Where else did you go?"

"Nowhere," Remus said. Now it was his turn to look bemused. "I told you guys he kept me shut up."

"But weren't you really scared to go to school then?" James asked. "If you'd never really been in other places with other people before?"

"Yes," Remus admitted. "I was bloody terrified. That's why I was hanging round at the station on the first day. And why I don't…didn't really know how to make friends."

"Oh, Moony," James looked torn up with guilt. "I'm sorry!"

"Why? It wasn't your fault."

"But I was _mean_ to you!"

"Well…" Remus glanced at Sirius for help. "You're not anymore. I don't care. You're my friends now."

"Come on," Sirius said, determined to change the subject beofre it became unbearably soppy. "That's your room up there." He bounded up the stairs and opened the door with a flourish.

"_This _is my room?" Remus said, leaning against the doorframe and staring in with a look of wonder on his face. "Our whole house could fit in here. Where are you guys sleeping?"

"The other doors down the hall," James said. "Dinner will be ready in a bit, so just dump your trunk and we can head down to the kitchen."

"Down again?" Remus asked, looking back at the stairs they had just climbed with resignation.

"It only takes a few seconds if you use the banister," Sirius told him helpfully.

"I though you weren't allowed."

"If she really didn't want us to she would have put an anti-sliding charm on it," James said cheerfully. "We'll go first and catch you at the bottom so you don't hurt any of your injuries. Bad moon?"

Remus shrugged. "You guys weren't there. It was okay. I've had worse."

"You've always had worse, Moony."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Most of the Potter Manor was not used in the family's everyday lives, and the small section in which the Potters actually lived seemed much more homely and welcoming than the exterior first suggested. In spite of their wealth, Mr. And Mrs. Potter believed in doing things for themselves. The house elves were in charge of taking care of the main house while Mrs. Potter did most of the cooking herself. She also allocated chores like washing dishes, painting rooms, or weeding the kitchen and formal gardens to James - and Sirius when he was there - in order to teach them that 'nothing in life came easily.'

Sirius was particularly un-amused by this lesson a few days later when he found himself washing up in the kitchen while the other three Marauders sat in the living room playing Gobstones with Mr. Potter.

"Blacks aren't designed to do menial tasks like this while their friends play Gobstones without them," he announced to the room in general, eyeing a piece of floating pasta with disgust. "Especially without magic. We're designed for looking down on people and bossing people about and being crazy and…um… torturing people…"

"You sound like a very pleasant family," Mrs. Potter said dryly, and Sirius glanced over his shoulder to see her standing in the doorway watching him with amusement.

"Then I wasn't describing us very well." He rinsed a plate and placed it in the dish-rack.

"I'll dry up and keep you company," she said. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about anyway."

Sirius immediately tensed. Pleasant conversations very rarely followed those words. "What about?"

"Remus."

Sirius glanced through the door of the living room where James was chasing Peter and trying to stuff a gobstone down his shirt, while Remus sat beside Mr. Potter on the sofa, his face alight with laughter. Sirius felt a familiar surge of protectiveness well up inside him.

He went over and quietly closed the heavy kitchen door before walking back to the sink, his heart hammering. What did she want to know?

"He wouldn't have heard us," Mrs. Potter reassured him.

"Remus has very sharp ears," Sirius told her, as he went back to washing the dishes.

"I just wanted to know what's wrong with him," Mrs. Potter said. "It's impolite to ask, but he just seems so wasted and drawn. I mean he's better now, but I'm worried he'll get worse again. When you boys said he gets ill a lot, I thought you just meant he was prone to colds or wizard flu or something. I just need to know what I'm dealing with, Sirius. I thought I would ask you because you seem to take the most care of him."

"I do?" Sirius thought about it for a few seconds. "I suppose I do. I worry about him."

"I know," she said gently. "Will you tell me?"

Sirius's mind raced. Although she didn't know it, Mrs. Potter was putting him in an incredibly awkward position. He hated having to lie to her, and he wanted her to understand how much Remus suffered, but he knew he could never tell her Remus's secret.

"He asked us not to talk about it to people," Sirius said, as truthfully as he could. "We're not going to catch it. It's something he developed really young."

Mrs. Potter looked a little frustrated. "Can't you tell me anything else?"

"You're putting me in a very difficult position," Sirius admitted. "I don't want to betray confidences."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. Can you at least tell me a bit about it? Is it fatal?"

Sirius thought about Remus's wounds on the bad days, and Madame Pomfrey saying, "It was a close one this morning." He thought about the Ministry and the punishment Remus would receive if he was ever discovered, or if Moony accidentally killed someone.

"It can be," He said eventually. "There is a high chance he will die because of it. His mother did. And sometimes I think he might give up himself. If he ever stopped fighting against it every day, I don't think he would survive for long."

Neither he, nor Mrs. Potter spoke for a long time. Eventually she cleared her throat. "Thank you, Sirius. I won't ask you again. I just… I wish I could do something. Anything."

"We all do," Sirius said. "James, Pete and I are determined we are going to do something to help him one day."

"You're good to be friends with him."

Sirius frowned at her tone. "It's not a chore, Mrs. Potter. We aren't friends with him because we feel sorry for him. We _like _Remus. In lots of ways he's the strongest of the lot of us. He holds us together. We're best friends. I don't know what I would do without him…" Sirius trailed off, his face heating up at an alarming rate. He hadn't intended on voicing his feelings so strongly, and he suddenly realised that it probably wasn't something a fifteen-year-old boy should be saying out loud if he wanted to retain any street cred at all.

"I didn't mean for it to sound like that," Mrs. Potter assured him quickly. "It's just very rare that teenage boys can look past physical weaknesses to see a person's strengths."

"Can we stop talking about it now?" Sirius was beginning to feel trapped, and wasn't sure how much longer he could answer her questions without lying or giving away Remus's condition. To his relief, Mrs. Potter's face softened, and she gave a short nod.

"Of course. Forgive me. Thank you for talking to me."

She sighed and dried her hand on her dish-towel. Then she reached out and affectionately ruffled Sirius's hair before opening the door and returning to the lounge. Sirius turned back to the washing up, his heart still racing as he thought back on the conversation to see if he had accidentally given away any clues to Remus's condition.

"I don't know what I would do without you, either," a soft voice said behind him, causing him to jump guiltily.

"Moony." Sirius glanced at him. Remus was leaning back against the kitchen table with his arms crossed over his chest. "I should have known you would overhear that. Though I thought the door was pretty thick. How good _is _your hearing anyway?"

Remus smiled. "Not _that _good. I have to confess to a bit of eavesdropping. I heard her say she wanted to talk about me, so I snuck over and pushed the door open a crack again and sat nearby."

"Huh. Marauder."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Remus pushed himself away from the kitchen table and wandered over to lean on the counter beside Sirius instead. Having recovered a lot in the week since he had arrived, his movements no longer looked laced with pain and instead, seemed very graceful and canine. His tawny hair glowed with reddish tints in the dimmer light of the kitchen. As Sirius watched him, he thought that it must be Remus and not himself who was the most best-looking boy in their year.

"I'm sorry," he said, turning his head away and pretending to be absorbed in washing the last of the dishes. "But she asked. I didn't know what to tell her."

"You did very well. I would have just stuttered and mumbled and made her suspicious. I don't think you even directly lied to her."

"I didn't want to. I really like Mrs. Potter. She's exactly what I picture a proper mother to be like."

"Yeah," Remus said wistfully. "Me too." He glanced sideways at Sirius and a light blush flourished on his cheeks before he directed his gaze to the floor. "It meant a lot to me – what you said to her at the end. About not just being friends with me out of pity. I really don't know what I would do without you either. I definitely wouldn't have survived this long, I don't think."

Sirius wished he could believe that Remus meant that figuratively. "I meant every word, Moony," he said, also blushing. "I didn't mean to come out with it – it wasn't exactly manly – but I _did_ mean it."

"I know. And I just wanted you to know it meant a lot."

Remus raised his head to meet Sirius's eyes and Sirius felt his heart rate pick up, though he couldn't have said exactly why. It was that same electric, excited feeling he had felt when he and Remus had been sticking up spider webs on their brooms. Something that wasn't Moony but seemed just as wild and enigmatic seemed to flare in Remus's eyes as well. It felt like they were standing on the edge of something important – one more step and they would fall into something new and frightening and wonderful.

Then there was a loud crash as James and Peter fell in to the room, trying to wrestle a gobstone from one another. Neither one seemed to notice when a kitchen chair toppled over onto their heads. Mr. Potter was cheering from the lounge, while Mrs. Potter winced and put her hand over her face.

"I won it!" Peter was yelling. "It was mine by rights!"

"You did not! I _saw_ it go wonky!"

The moment between them was gone and Sirius didn't know if he was disappointed or relieved. He wondered if it had been another mysterious 'pack thing', and if it happened to James and Peter as well. Strangely he hoped it didn't. It felt too personal – something special between Remus and himself.

"Do you reckon we should help them?" Remus asked from where he was still leaning against the counter.

"Nah, I wouldn't bother," Sirius said. He flung the last plate onto the dish rack before emptying the sink with relief. "I vote for a trip into muggle London tomorrow. You and Pete _did _promise one this holiday."

There was an even louder crash as James and Peter hit the ornamental dresser and created an avalanche of plates that rained down on their heads. "I'll second that," Remus said. "One more day with you guys and your cabin fever and I might go feral myself."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"What on earth possessed us to do this?" Remus asked Pete helplessly, as James and Sirius flirted shamelessly with the refreshments lady on the train so they could get a longer look at the hot chocolate machine.

"I don't believe it does that without magic," James pronounced loudly, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms.

The refreshments lady looked a little confused, and eyed her trolley dubiously. "What?"

"That thing that makes hot drinks. How does it work if you don't have magic?"

"Er…" she stared at him, obviously trying to figure out when either the bad joke or chat-up line would become apparent.

"It has to be magic," Sirius put in. "Things don't run without magic. They must have nicked it from us."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

Remus sighed. "Ignore them. They don't get out much. It's electricity." He added to James and Sirius.

"That thing that they do where they catch lightning and put it in a box?" Sirius eyed the machine suspiciously. "Sounds like the kind of mental thing muggles would do."

"Sounds like a fire hazard to me," James added. "Will it blow something up, Pete? Can I have a cup?" He fumbled in his jeans pocked and pulled out a handful of galleons, sickles and muggle coins. "Which one do you want?" he asked the lady holding out his hand to her.

She glanced at Remus doubtfully. "Give them hot chocolate," he sighed, reaching out to pick out the correct amount of change from James's hand.

"You can't just say stuff like that in front of innocent Muggles," Remus scolded the two dark-haired boys as she moved away.

"Well, it _is _mental," Sirius said, completely unrepentant. "And this tastes vile."

"It's train hot chocolate," Peter said. "It's supposed to taste vile."

"Well, why did we get it then?"

"Because you wanted to see if the machine would explode," Remus reminded him.

Things did not drastically improve once they were off the train. Sirius couldn't believe he had been living so close to such an alien world without taking an interest before. He and James gaped at traffic lights and light bulbs, and loudly exclaimed over vending machines and a television they spotted in a shop widow playing a black and white film of two dancing muggles. Sirius wondered if he would be allowed to switch to Muggle Studies with Remus before the OWLs to find out more about the Muggle world. How on earth could they do all this without magic?

Sirius almost jumped out of his skin when a ferocious-looking Muggle machine roared to a stop right beside where he was standing on the pavement. A man dressed in black leather got off, pulled off his helmet, glared at the gaping boys and headed into a nearby shop.

"What the hell is that?" James demanded. "It's like a little car on two wheels."

"It's a motorbike," Peter said rolling his eyes. "Honestly, don't you know anything?"

"How fast does it go?" Sirius demanded, staring at the motorbike with hungry eyes. It was the most intricate and beautiful muggle machine he had ever seen. It _looked_ fast even though it was standing still.

"I dunno," Peter said absently. "As fast as a car. You want to go shopping now?"

The man returned from the shop with a pack of cigarettes which he shoved into his pocket. He gave the boys another suspicious glare, before shoving his helmet back on, swinging his leg over the bike and roaring off again.

"I think I'm in love," Sirius said dreamily.

"Eew!" James said. "He was all old and hairy and dirty, _and _in case you hadn't noticed, _male_."

"Not the bloke," Sirius said, making a face at his friend. "The motorbike. I want one."

"What on earth for?" Peter asked. "In a few years you'll be able to apparate. Plus you have a broom."

"Didn't you _see _it?" Sirius demanded. "It was amazing! Fast and streamlined and shiny. Plus my mother would _hate _it!"

"And in the life of Sirius Black, that's always a winner," James said, rolling his eyes.

"You can't have a motorbike," Remus said. "Where would you put it?"

"Don't know, don't care. Can I at least have a picture? A big one. To hang on the wall of my room with a permanent sticking charm. And another one for our dorm. Maybe two in my room." Sirius sighed happily at the thought of Kreacher scrubbing frantically at the non-removable picture of a motorbike while his mother stood in the doorway of his room and shrieked.

"We could probably find some posters," Peter said, starting down the street with the others trailing behind. "But won't you get in trouble?"

"It will be worth it to see her turn purple and start tearing her hair out. And it'll remind me of my new life's ambition."

"Which is?" Remus asked with resignation.

"To own a whole _herd _of motorbikes," Sirius announced. "And when I inherit Grimmauld Place, I'll keep one in every room and ride them up and down the stairs all day."

"They won't work in such a magical environment," Remus said. "Muggle technology doesn't mix well with magic."

"Then I'll alter them to run on magic," Sirius said, unfazed. "You could help me, Moony."

"Yay for me," Remus said dryly.

"And we can make them go even faster. And maybe even fly. Wouldn't that be cool?"

"Here's a place that sells pictures," Peter interrupted, entering a small, dark shop that sold records, videos and posters.

"Peter, my friend!" Sirius said, bounding into the shop, "You are a true Marauder!"

The others followed at a slightly slower pace, and by the time they caught up, they found Sirius staring open-mouthed at something on the poster rack.

"What? What?" James demanded.

"Naked girls," Sirius said faintly, pointing. The poster in front of them depicted three buxom, scantily clad girls lounging on a tropical beach.

"Well, damn," James murmured. "What kind of shop is this anyway, Pete?"

Sirius turned to see James and Remus staring with equally shocked and fascinated expressions. Peter was, oddly, looking at the three of them incredulously. "They're not _naked_," he said, shaking his head. "Honestly – _wizards! _They're wearing bikinis."

"Bee-what-sies?" James asked, apparently unable to tear his eyes away.

"Bikinis. Swimming costumes. Haven't any of you been to a Muggle beach in the summer? Everyone wears these. Well, not guys. They just wear the bottom half."

"You mean muggles wander round like this all the time?" Remus demanded in disbelief. "I've never seen any and I've lived in a Muggle neighbourhood ever since I was with the Anders. _And_ I take Muggle Studies."

"Not _all _the time," Peter said patiently. Sirius got the impression he was enjoying being the one who knew something that the others didn't for a change. "Just in summer. And usually just on the beach."

"Muggles are odd," Remus said, leaning closer to the poster. "Where do you think it's taken? The Caribbean?"

"Who cares?" James asked. "There's practically naked girls on it."

"Watch it, mate," Sirius said, grinning. "You're drooling. Hey, Pete, why aren't they moving?"

Peter gave him another incredulous look. "You know for two people as clever as you and James, you really are quite slow," he said. "It's a Muggle poster. They're Muggle girls. Therefore – no magic. They stay in the position they were in when it was taken."

Sirius looked up at the poster again and felt an idea dawning along with a wide grin on his face. "You know who would _really _hate this poster?"

"You _wouldn't,_" James said, looking away from the imobile girls for the first time to stare at Sirius in awe. "It would be suicidal!"

"Oh, Sirius, don't," Remus said. "She might actually kill you."

"A permanent sticking charm," Sirius said musingly. "This is brilliant! Now find one of a motorbike."

"You want a motorbike as well?" James said, flicking though the rest of the posters. "Why? There's loads of naked girls here."

"I told you, I'm in love with motobikes."

James flipped through the rest of the posters before pausing triumphantly on a picture of a long-legged blonde girl astride a motorbike. "Here you go. Two in one. Girl and bike."

"I want a different one," Sirius said, scowling at the poster. "She's covering all the best bits of the bike with her legs."

James gave him a disbelieving glance, before obediently moving on until he found a few more posters just depicting motorbikes.

"Good," Sirius said with satisfaction. "I'll have all the ones with motorbikes and two naked girl ones."

"You're really going to buy naked girl ones?" Remus demanded, looking embarrassed on Sirius's behalf.

"My mother will hate them," Sirius said, as if that answered the question.

Remus shook his head. "You're going to get into trouble."

Sirius shrugged and carried to posters to the counter. "You getting one?" he asked James.

James glanced back longingly at the bikini-clad girls. "I would, but if you think _your _mother's reaction would be bad, you should try mine."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Hey, Moony, what's this?" Sirius called to the tawny-haired boy who was having an animated discussion with Peter about washing machines while Sirius and James explored the rest of the electrical shop under the disapproving gaze of the shopkeeper.

Remus came over and stood on tiptoe to peer over Sirius's shoulder. He smiled wistfully when he saw what his friend was looking at.

"It' a tape player," Remus told him. "Muggles store music in tapes like these," he pointed to a few that were stored on a rack, "and then put them into that slot and the music plays out loud through the speakers. Like a wizard's wireless."

"They do that with electricity?" Sirius asked, dragging out the last word to ensure he got it right. "These Muggles are brilliant."

"My mother had one," Remus said, looking at the machine. "It was older than this one, of course. She adored Muggle music. She was a Muggle-born witch and she loved everything in the wizarding world, but she always liked Muggle music over wizard music because it reminded her of her childhood." He reached out and ran a slim-fingered hand over the buttons of the tape player. He smiled at Sirius. "I like it for the same reason."

"I'll buy you one," Sirius said impulsively. "Choose some of those tape things."

Remus took a little step back. "No, Sirius. You can't just keep buying me things. I'm not a charity case. Besides, it wouldn't work anywhere in the wizarding world. Like your motorbikes."

Sirius frowned at him. "I don't think of you as a charity case. But I have more money than I know what to do with. I want to spend it all before my mother disowns me. We'll magic it so it works."

"If you didn't do things to deliberately antagonise her, she wouldn't disown you!" Remus gave him a frustrated look and waved his hand towards Sirius's bag of posters.

"You of all people should know what it's like!" Sirius snapped back, unaware that his voice was rising in volume. "You of all people should know that if I didn't deliberately do things to make her angry she would find them on her own! Just being Gryffindor is enough to have me locked in the cellar for a week!" He turned his head away, tilting it towards the tape player so Remus wouldn't see his face. "At least this way I feel like I have won a little bit of pride back," he said. "This way I have some control. You should know, Moony. You of all people should know."

There was a long silence from everyone in the shop. Eventually Sirius heard Remus moving behind him and an arm went around his waist, though Remus made no move to look at his face – almost as if he sensed Sirius's need for privacy.

"You're right," the werewolf answered him, equally softly. "I do know. But I was never like you. I didn't take control. I let it all happen and tried to please him all the time. You're right. It didn't make a difference. Maybe it even made it worse."

Sirius felt some of the deep guilt inside him lift at the words. It was as if hearing Remus say them confirmed his belief in what he was doing. The tension drained from his body and he turned to give Remus a cheeky smile. "Does this mean you approve of my naked ladies?"

Remus made a face and stepped away. "I will never approve of your naked ladies."

"Why?" Sirius demanded.

"It just seems…tacky. You know; sticking pictures of naked girls on your wall. It should mean more than what."

"What should mean more than that?" Sirius asked, loving the way his question made a rosy blush rise to Remus's cheeks. "Sex?"

"There's no reasoning with you when you're in this mood," Remus said, his cheeks still pink.

"Go on, Moony. Say it. Sex. Sexsexsex."

"_Don't _Sirius!"

"You can't do it unless you can say it. Come on, Moony. You know you want to. Sex, sex, se-ex."

"Does it look like I plan on doing it any time soon?" Remus demanded. "Make him stop, James!"

Sirius glanced over his shoulder to see James and Peter watching them with a mixture of amusement and relief.

"You already said it, Moony," James said, grinning at Remus's embarrassment. "There's no reasoning with him when he's in this mood."

"Argh!" Remus said, throwing up his arms impatiently. "Sex. There, are you happy? Sexsexsex. Honestly!"

Sirius grinned and patted Remus on the head. He wondered why Remus's hair was always so soft when Sirius _knew _he never even conditioned it. "Good boy. Now go and choose some tapey things."

"I'm not going to," Remus said, folding his arms and jutting his chin forward stubbornly. "If you get disowned, you'll need all the money you can get."

"Fine, don't," Sirius said, feigning indifference. "I'll buy a tape player anyway and choose all the music myself. James will help me and he will pick out all the ones with naked ladies on the front. I can see one from here."

"Yay!" James said, starting forward and sending a wink over his shoulder at Sirius.

"I'm not going to fall for it," Remus said, pointedly turning his back on them and smiling apologetically at the shopkeeper who was beginning to look very annoyed.

"There's one here with a naked lady who has a snake wrapped around her," James commented, holding it up.

"And another one with two girls who seemed to have put on paint instead of clothes," Sirius added. "You can even see their – "

"Fine!" Remus yelled, swinging round and yanking the tape out of Sirius's hand. "I'll choose some!"

Sirius grinned triumphantly. "…Nipples," he finished, relinquishing the tape and bowing towards the racks. "Go on then, Moony. You know if you blush like that in front of girls they will be falling over themselves to go out with you. It really is disturbingly cute. What, James? It is! Deny it if you will."

"You're a boy. You're not supposed to say things like that," James said, shaking his head and aiming a kick at Sirius.

"I'm a Black," Sirius said serenely. "I can say whatever I like."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It seemed like a very short time before Mr. and Mrs. Potter loaded the four boys into the Hogwarts Express with expressions of great relief on their faces.

"Merlin himself knows that those teachers at your school don't get paid enough to take you all on," Mrs. Potter said, leaning through the train window to hand Sirius back the shoe he had charmed to blow loud raspberries and chase Snape round the station as soon as they had arrived.

"Have fun, boys," Mr. Potter added. "Give them hell. Where's James?"

"He went to find the snack trolley," Peter volunteered

The train belched out a billowing column of steam before beginning to roll away from the station.

"Tell him goodbye from us!" Mrs. Potter yelled after them, jogging to keep up. "And don't prank the teachers! And don't get detention! And don't…" The rest of her words were swallowed by the noise of the train as it sped up and moved away from the station.

"Where _is _James?" Sirius asked, pulling on his shoe.

"Went to find Evans," Peter volunteered again, rather more truthfully.

"Ah," Sirius said, sitting back. "I should've guessed."

James didn't return for a long time, and just as Sirius was about to go and search for him, he returned accompanied by a peal of feminine giggles. Sirius gaped at the door as it slid open to reveal James and a blonde-haired Ravenclaw girl named Bronwyn Kemp, who wore so much pink lipstick that Sirius was surprised her lips didn't droop under the weight of it. She clung to James's arm possessively.

"What's she doing here?" Sirius demanded.

"She's my girlfriend," James said, blushing furiously.

"Your _what_?" Peter asked, also gaping.

"My girlfriend. Don't you listen?"

"Um…" Remus spoke up from his seat beside the window. "Hi Bronwyn. Would you mind giving us a minute?"

"Why?" she demanded. "He can go out with anyone he likes."

"It's not that," Remus said, looking mournful. "I lost my spider somewhere in here and I don't want you to accidentally stand on him. Can you see him? He's quite big, but his black fur helps him to hide in the shadows under the seats."

Bronwyn looked horrified and glanced at her feet. She backed out hurriedly, but gave a warning glare to Sirius and Peter. "I'll be just outside the door," she said, before closing it with a little more force than was necessary.

"A spider?" Peter asked Remus sceptically, as the werewolf cast a quick silencing charm on the room.

"You should have heard her scream when there was one on her book in the library once," Remus said. "My head was ringing for a week, I swear."

"_Girlfriend?_" Sirius demanded, staring at James who looked sheepish.

"It's my new plan to get Evans," James explained.

"Your new plan to get Evans is to go out with a completely different girl?"

"No. It's to make her jealous," James said.

"Jealous. Right."

"Kemp wanted to go out with me, so I thought 'why not?'" James sent Sirius a pleading look. "You must get one too. You know practically every girl in the school fancies you."

"_Me?_" Sirius stared at him in disbelief. "You want _me _to make Evans jealous as well?"

"Well, no," James said. "But I don't want to be the only person going out with someone. And you know Moony won't because of his furry little problem, and Pete would dissolve into a puddle of goo before he plucked up the courage to ask anyone."

"You shouldn't go out with a girl just to make another girl jealous," Remus said.

"Of course I should," James answered airily. "Everyone does it."

"They don't."

"They do. I'm not going to dump her, so live with it."

Remus looked like he wanted to say more, but instead turned his head away and looked out of the window. Sirius wondered why he didn't continue the argument when he obviously felt very strongly about the subject. When he thought about it, Sirius realised that Remus nearly always backed down rather than anger his friends and he wondered why.

"I'm not going to go out with some girl just because you want me to," Sirius said.

"That's not the only reason!" James protested. "You're going to be sixteen on your next birthday. Don't you think it's about time you went out with one? Or are you too scared to ask the real thing? Would you rather stick to your posters?"

"The posters are just to make my mother mad," Sirius snapped. "And my birthday is ages from now. Remus and Pete haven't even turned fifteen yet."

"Fine, don't if you're too scared. And they'll turn fifteen in a couple of months."

"I'm _not _scared!"

"Huh. Sounds like you are."

"Well, who am I supposed to ask?"

James looked at him in bemusement. "I dunno. Who do you fancy?"

Sirius floundered, his mind skittering over the many girls in their year and the years above and below. "I don't know. I've never really thought about it."

"Are you serious? Who do you think about when you…you know?"

Sirius felt himself blushing scarlet. "James!"

"Well who? Don't tell me you don't even wank."

"Of course I do," Sirius said defensively. "I just don't think of anyone in particular-just vague impressions. We all know who _you _think of."

"So what?" James said, unabashed. "Everyone does it. Even Remus."

"Hey!" Remus said, looking insulted. "What do you mean 'even Remus'? I'll have you know I think about sex just as much as any other boy."

"Do you?" James asked, a grin alighting on his face. "Who do you think about?"

"No one," Remus said. "Like Sirius. Just impressions."

"Bloody hell!" James shook his head. "You guys have to develop your fantasy life a bit. You're so brainy, Moony. You should have a three part epic on the go by now."

"Do we have to talk about this?" Peter asked. Sirius glanced over to the chubby Marauder and was amused to see that his face was almost puce with embarrassment.

"Who do you think about, Pete?" he asked slyly.

"None of your business! You'd tease me if I told you."

"So you _do _think about someone," James said, looking pointedly at Sirius and Remus. "See, even Pete has more interesting fantasies than you two."

"Fine!" Sirius said, throwing himself back against the seat and crossing his arms. "I'll ask out a girl if you drop this."

"Fine," James said, looking satisfied. "Who?"

"Rebecca. That friend of Evans's"

Why?"

"Because she's pretty and I know she fancies me."

James shrugged. "A good a reason as any."

Remus made an odd noise at the back of his throat. It sounded a little like a strangled growl. Sirius glanced at him, but Remus turned away and looked out of the window again. Although he had not said a word, Sirius felt shame coiling in his stomach like a restless snake and it was followed by an irrational burst of anger towards the werewolf that made him more determined that ever to ask Rebecca out and prove to Remus that he didn't have power over Sirius's emotions.

He ignored the slightly nauseous feeling in his belly that indicated his sentiments were otherwise.


	38. Its Full Moon, You Had Best Let Me Go

_"If music be the food of love, play on,  
Give me excess of it; that surfeiting,  
The appetite may sicken, and so die."  
(William Shakespeare -Twelfth Night)_

**REMUS:**

True to his word, Sirius asked Rebecca out almost as soon as the start of term feast ended. Remus had gone on ahead to the common room, so he never actually saw Sirius do it, but there was no doubt in his mind when Sirius returned with Rebecca in tow and flopped elegantly onto a sofa near the fire that was usually reserved for the Marauders alone.

As Remus watched from the floor of a dark corner with Hamish in his lap, Rebecca laughed and flung back her head so her dark curls moved in a way she obviously thought was seductive. He thought that it looked more like she was having some sort of chronic neck spasm.

She then proceeded to plant herself in Sirius's lap and snuggle against him like a possessive cat, shooting sidelong glances at the other girls in the room – many of whom were watching the scene with envy.

Remus felt Moony stir and rise in him and his breath hitched in shock. What the hell was wrong with him? Was he really _that _angry about the way that Sirius was using this girl? And why hadn't he been this angry with James, who was using Bronwyn in a way that was even worse?

"It's disgusting!"

Remus jumped as the distinctly feminine voice spoke his own thoughts aloud. He looked up to see Lily crouch down beside him, glaring in a different direction to where he was looking, and followed her gaze. Looking very out of place in her Ravenclaw colours, Bronwyn was curled up with James on another sofa, whispering in his ear. Remus wondered how James had sneaked her in. He couldn't remember ever having seen someone from another house in their common room before. It was amazing the lengths James would go to make Lily jealous.

Bronwyn giggled at something James said and snuggled up closer to him. The messy-haired boy put an arm around her waist. Remus wondered why teenagers always turned into romantic clichés when they wanted to show off their relationships to the outside world.

"This had better not be some other plan you boys have cooked up for fun," Lily said savagely. "Those are real girls with real feelings. You can't do that to people!" She glared at Remus accusingly.

"Don't look at me," he snapped, more sharply than he had intended because Moony was still peering out of his eyes and growling in his mind. "Does it look like _I _have a pretty girl sitting in my lap and clinging on to my every word? No! I have a _hedgehog_ in my lap and an annoying girl sitting _beside_ me, rudely accusing me of doing something that I don't even want to be happening anyway. We're the _Marauders! _They shouldn't…they shouldn't…argh!" he couldn't think of a way to finish his sentence, so he settled for sending a poisonous glance at Lily before going back to glowering at Sirius.

"Good heavens, Remus," Lily said, taken aback. "I just _asked_."

"No, you _accused_! Now leave me alone!"

She stared at him in consternation. "What's got _your _knickers in a twist?"

"I said _leave me alone_!"

Lily followed his gaze towards Sirius, looked back at Remus. Then looked at Sirius once more. Her mouth opened, then closed.

"What?" Remus snapped.

Her mouth opened again and stayed like that as she glanced towards a group of girls who were sending envious looks at Rebecca and Sirius, then back to Remus again.

"Oh my God," she murmured, and rocked back on her haunches so her behind fell with a thump to the floor beside Remus. "Oh my God, Remus."

"_What?_" He turned his full attention to her and scowled. "I thought I told you to leave."

"Oh you poor thing. You poor, poor thing. And after everything else you've been through with your father and being ill, as well."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Do they know?" Lily whispered. "Your friends I mean."

"What?" Suddenly Remus forgot everything else as he took in her expression of shocked and slightly disturbed pity. He had only seen that expression a few times before – when someone had found out about his lycanthropy. He felt every muscle in his body tense and begin shaking. Hamish shifted in his lap and sent a concerned glance upwards to Remus's face. "Oh no… p-p-please… H-how did you g-g-guess? Please don't t-tell anyone!"

"So it's true?" she whispered. "I thought – but then – Remus, it's really frowned on in wizarding society. I mean it's frowned on in muggle society, but in wizarding society it's even worse and things could get really nasty for you if people found out."

"Y-y-you won't tell anyone?"

Lily placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Of course I wouldn't. You can't help who you are."

"Th-thank you!" Remus felt as though his muscles were dissolving and sagged against the wall with his eyes closed. "You don't know – hang on!" He sat up again and stared at her. "Muggles know about us?"

"Of course!" she looked slightly affronted. "Muggles are humans too, you know. There are just as many gay people among them as among wizards I reckon."

Remus froze, his mouth half open. His mind went completely blank for a few seconds before he managed to choke out, "_what _did you say?"

"I _said,_" Lily repeated, a little impatiently, "that there are just as many g –"

"No, stop, stop! I heard you the first time! Merlin, girl, don't repeat it!"

"You _asked _me to!"

Remus put his face in his hands. He didn't know whether to laugh hysterically or cry. "Heavens, Lily, you got it all wrong," he gasped eventually. "I thought you were talking about something else. What in Merlin's name made you think…oh." He glanced up at Sirius, then back at Lily. "That wasn't it. I wasn't angry because I'm…because I…because of _that. _It's not like _that _between us!" His heart was hammering against his ribcage as he struggled to make her understand. "Not _that_!"

"Oh _really_?" she said sceptically. "I've never seen such a rejected-puppy look on anyone's face in my life. If you're not in love with him, you have to be in love with Rebecca and I've never seen you look twice at her before."

"I _wasn't_!" Remus said desperately. "You've got it all wrong!"

"No, I haven't. You're just in denial. It all makes sense now – the way you look at him and talk about him. I remember the way you held him up with two dislocated arms that day in the corridor to stop him falling, without a single complaint."

"N…no…"

"Yes! And on the Quidditch pitch? You were so focused on Black you never even saw Potter score. I was sitting right behind you, and Pettigrew almost knocked me off my seat he was elbowing you so hard."

"Evans, stop!"

"'Evans' now, is it?" she looked triumphant. "I hit a nerve, didn't I?"

"S-stop!" Remus felt desperate tears well up in his eyes. He felt like she was tearing him open and making everything he had felt was so special seem tainted and wrong.

Lily's green eyes met his own and suddenly filled with remorse. "Oh Remus! Remus, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have… I'm sorry! Please, I really am. I shouldn't have said all that. I'm sorry."

"Just l-leave me alone," Remus whispered.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said, trying to put an arm around him, which he shrugged off. "I just…" she stopped and he felt her stiffen. "You thought I meant something else," she murmured, her voice filled with realisation. "Before – when I promised not to tell. You thought I meant something else." She leant back and studied his horror-stricken face. "How many secrets do you have, Remus Lupin? How many secrets are you keeping? At least one other big one, hm? One that could get you ostracised or even killed by wizard society. And it's about who you are as well, isn't it? Something you are. What is it?"

Remus felt sick to his very bones. He scrambled to his feet, clutching Hamish to his chest. Lily followed and tried to hold him back. "I'm gay," Remus whispered to her desperately. It was the lesser of two evils. He wouldn't be killed for it. "You were right. I'm g-gay, and I didn't want you to know. There's nothing else. No other secrets. I like guys. That's all."

"Liar!" she whispered back, holding onto his arm. "It's worse than being gay? You're so frightened I'll find out, you'll even admit to _that _to put me off?"

A frightened sob jerked its way out of his lungs and Lily dropped his arm immediately. "You can tell me. I'm your friend."

Remus turned and sprinted towards the boys' dorms, up the stairs, into the Marauders' room. He dropped Hamish on his pillow and flung himself down next to the hedgehog, burying his face.

Only a few minutes passed before his sensitive ears picked up the sound of approaching footsteps. His nose was still pressed against his bed so he couldn't smell who it was until a gentle hand was pressed against his back. "Moony?"

Sirius. Everything else that Lily had said that evening flooded back in a tidal wave of emotion. "Get away from me!" he screamed, his voice muffled. _A freak, _he thought,_ a freak. Please, Merlin and all the gods, let me not be even more of a freak that I already am…_

Sirius jerked his hand away. "Remus, I'm _sorry_. I'm sorry I upset you! What did I do?"

_Nothing! You're wonderful and perfect and, GOD DAMN HER, she was right. I would do anything in the world for you. Twisted freak._ Out loud he only screamed, "Get away from me!" again.

After a long moment, he heard Sirius get up and leave. He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. Right now, he wished more than anything he could just give up. Throw in the towel and yell to whoever it was up there that controlled fate, "_I give up! I give up, damn you! Just leave me and be done with it!_"

Hamish crept over and nuzzled Remus's cheek with his little black nose. A tear escaped from under his closed eyelid and tricked down his cheek.

"Remus?"

He turned his face towards the door without opening his eyes. "Just leave me alone, J-James."

"I go to all the effort of going out with a random girl to get Evans's attention and you're the one who has to fight her off," James said, obviously trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Remus rolled on his side so his back faced the door. He reached out to stroke Hamish's head.

"Sirius is upset. He doesn't know what he did to make you mad at him."

"I'm not mad at him," Remus said hoarsely.

"No?" James came closer and Remus felt his bed dip as he sat on it. "It sounds like you are."

"Moony's tetchy. I'm mad at everyone."

"Why's Moony tetchy? It's ages until full moon."

"Bugger off and snuggle with your girl, James. Leave me alone."

"Is it the girls? Is Moony seeing them as a threat to our pack? 'Cos he doesn't have to. We'll always be the Marauders. No girls are going to change that. Blimey, Rem. I've never seen you this mad at _anyone_. Was it something Evans said?"

Remus let out a frustrated growl that definitely sounded more like Moony than himself and sent an angry look over his shoulder at James. "I think she's figuring out my secret. There. Happy now?"

"What?" James asked faintly. "Which one?"

"Which one do you think? How many bloody secrets do you think I'm keeping?"

"With you, Moony, I don't think anyone but you knows. You're a master at keeping secrets."

"Some master!" Remus said bitterly. "Every time I turn around there's a new person with that expression on their face. 'Oh, poor Remus! Your father beats you,' 'oh poor Remus, your mother was torn to shreds in front of your eyes', 'oh poor Remus, you're a werewolf,' 'oh poor Remus, poor Remus, _poor_ _bloody_ Remus. _Why_ do you have so many secrets, Remus? Don't you _want _our pity?' 'We _pity _you for being a freak.'"

He curled around his pillow, hate, hurt, anger, and frustration welling up inside him. "And do you know what the worst thing is?" he demanded, clenching his hands into fists and pressing them against the pillow at his chest. "I _do _want it. I _do _want their pity because it's so much better than their hate, or their fear, or their f-f-fists beating and beating, and s-s-silver whips, and spoons, and pokers…"

He curled up tighter, barely aware of James's shocked presence anymore. "And I _want _their pity because it's almost like caring, but sometimes it's not enough. And sometimes I just want someone to stand up for me and say 'That's enough for Remus. He's enough of a freak now. Leave him alone. He doesn't want hate, or hurt, or beating, or even pity anymore, because he's tired now. Now he just w-w-wants to s-s-sleep." Remus let out a shuddering breath and finally fell silent.

"If I could do that, I would," James whispered. "If I could stand up there and say that for you, I would. I _do _care. I _do. _And so does Sirius and so does Peter. And everyone else can go to hell if they want to pity you. You don't deserve pity. You deserve admiration, and humour, and friendship, and - and – and love, and I am _completely _the wrong person to be telling you all of this and I wish Sirius would stop skulking in the doorway, eavesdropping, and help me out – but it's all true Moony."

Remus raised his head a little and tilted it towards the doorway. Sure enough, Sirius was there, sitting hunched against the frame with his knees drawn up to his chest and his hands clenched in his hair. The expression of distress on his face was so acute that the pain it caused in Remus's chest was violent and physical.

Closing his eyes again, Remus tried to push away the rush of self-hatred that rose in his chest for causing that look on Sirius's normally buoyant and cheerful face. "You're right," he said eventually, struggling to keep his voice calm. "Of course you're r-right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things. I didn't mean them. Lily wound me up so tight I just had a go at the first person I saw. I didn't mean any of it. Don't worry." He was quite proud of how calm and pleasant his voice sounded, but when he glanced up he saw that James's and Sirius's expressions were anything but reassured.

"You can't keep doing that, you know," Sirius said from the doorway, his voice sounding rather choked.

"What?" Remus asked in genuine confusion.

"Bottling everything up like that. You meant every word of what you said. You _do _just want to give up right now, don't you? I don't know what Evans said to you, but it sent you over the edge." Sirius didn't look up from his knees as he spoke.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm fine now. And I really am glad to have you guys. I know you care about me. We're the Marauders."

James wordlessly reached out and picked up one of Remus's hands. Remus watched with almost detached resignation as his friend used both his hands and all his strength to prise open Remus's fingers, which had locked themselves into a fist. When his hand opened, the little red crescents caused by his nails were so deep that blood literally dripped from them. There was a long moment as all three boys stared at the little wounds.

Then Sirius pushed himself to his feet and went to Remus's trunk. He opened it and pulled out a healing ointment. Neither he nor James said a word as he took Remus's hand from James's and began smoothing the potion onto his palm. Remus felt his heart quicken as Sirius's bigger, Quidditch-roughened hand held his own so gently. He wondered at how completely blind he had been not to realise how he felt before. Sirius's scent was so warm and close to him now that he felt slightly drunk on it. He knew he should pull away. He was taking advantage of Sirius in the same way that Sirius himself had taken advantage of Rebecca, but right now he just didn't have the will power.

This. This was perfect. This stolen moment that he viewed in such a different way to Sirius. As Sirius lifted his other hand and gently prised open each finger, Remus's mind screamed, his heart sang and his soul wept. His face, on the other hand, was as placid as the full moon on a clear night in winter.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus was _good _at acting. Sometimes he was holding up so many false personas at once, for so many different people, that he forgot who he was really supposed to be. At times like these he wondered if the person he was, _was _made up of all those personas - And if someone managed to break through them, perhaps all they would discover underneath would be an empty, suffocated shell of the real person he might have been.

But the skill did come in useful over the next couple of weeks as he was forced to watch Sirius and Rebecca at every opportunity – stealing kisses, holding hands, and cuddling. Sometimes, Sirius would come back to the dorm, his mouth swollen and pink and his voice filled with pride as be boasted to his friends about his latest snogging session.

Somehow, Sirius had managed to sweet-talk Professor McGonagall into letting him take Muggle Studies this late in the year, but instead of making the lesson better for Remus, it turned into a twice-weekly torture. The seat beside Remus had already been taken, so Sirius sat in front of him instead – beside Rebecca. Remus couldn't count the number of quills he had accidentally crushed as he eyes were drawn to the game of footsie between Sirius and Rebecca under the table, or to Rebecca's hand on Sirius's thigh.

Sometimes Sirius would turn round to send him a grin and a wink; "Alright Moony?"

Of course, Remus would always smile his placid, dependable, book-worm smile and counter with "Concentrate, you idiot. You have six months to catch up on," while his mind stored up the wink for future perusal and his stomach churned with guilt.

He knew that his happy mask was a little too brittle to be completely believable because James, Sirius, and Peter often sent him worried or bemused glances, and more than once, he had caught the three of them huddled together whispering, stopping guiltily as he approached.

He also knew that he would pay for his turmoil of emotions when Moony had the reins to their body. He didn't think he had ever felt this heart-sore or disorientated before. After his mother' death, he had been too young, and after his father was thrown into prison, positive emotions of relief and hope and checked the worst of his guilt and stress.

No, this was the worst he could ever remember feeling emotionally, and the fact that he didn't dare to share it with anyone else only served to bottle and distil his feelings of helpless panic, self-loathing, and longing. He hated hiding this much from his friends, but he knew he would not survive if they turned on him when they found out about his newest secret. His newest abnormality.

On the evening before the full moon, as he sat hunched under a table in the library trying to complete his homework, Remus wondered, in all seriousness, if he would even survive the coming transformation. What scared him even more was that some deep part of himself – perhaps that lost part that was just _him_, hoped that he wouldn't. He was just so tired of coping all the time. It seemed like such an easy option.

He stiffened as he sensed Sirius's approach. He could smell Rebecca's scent mixed strongly with his friend's so he knew Sirius had just left her. He curled further into the shadows as Sirius stopped at his table. He was too tired and weak with the approaching moon to face acting for his friend.

Sirius didn't seem to see him because he pulled out the chair Remus had placed in front of the table to conceal himself and sat on it without peering under the table. His long legs stretched out beside Remus and he crossed his booted feet at the ankles. He then leant forward, blocking out Remus's light and appeared to be resting his head and arms on the table in front of him.

Remus sat in dead silence, huddled to one side and trying not to look at Sirius's muscular thighs. He almost choked in surprise when Sirius suddenly spoke.

"Are you ignoring me, Moony?"

Remus found that he couldn't answer. He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his forehead on them. His body was preparing for the transformation and he knew he was running a high temperature even as his head pounded with pain and his muscles cramped.

"I know you're there. I saw the shadows shifting when I came in."

"I do talk to you," Remus mumbled against his knees.

"Only when you have to. Otherwise you avoid me. Especially when I'm with Rebecca. James was right, wasn't he? The girls are upsetting Moony. He feels like his pack threatened. That's why you're not yourself."

It was a good a reason as any, but Remus couldn't bring himself to actively aid in the lie, so he remained silent.

"Am I right?"

Remus sighed and shifted, wishing he didn't feel so hot and nauseous. Sirius was quiet for a long time; waiting for an answer. Eventually, he let out a little huff of air and there was a light thump as his forehead connected with the table.

"Do you want me to dump her? I'll do it if you ask me to."

Remus felt his breath catch in his throat. It would be so easy to say yes. But then what? Sirius would get another girl. Would he keep dumping them for the sake of his ragged werewolf friend? And even if he did, could Remus bring himself to ask the boy, who meant everything to him, to deprive himself of that pleasure for the sake of a one-sided love that could never be reciprocated?

"No," he whispered. "Don't do that. You like her."

Sirius gave a non-committal hum and drummed his fingers against the table. "She's not a Marauder," he answered. "Marauders always come first. There's a lot of other girls out there who are just as pretty. Though I guess that wouldn't matter to Moony."

_No, _Remus thought, _it wouldn't. As long as they were with you, it wouldn't matter who they were. _

"She's fine," Remus lied. "I like her. And she makes you happy. I want you to be happy. I want my whole pack to be happy."

"That was a pretty speech, Moony," Sirius said wryly. "I don't believe a word of it."

Remus reached out and gathered his homework things together, stuffing them into his bag, wondering, as he did, why he had bothered to complete so much of it. He froze when Sirius uncrossed his ankles and nudged him gently with the toe of his boot. "You still awake down there?"

"Would you look after Hamish for me?" Remus asked, picking up the dozing hedgehog out of his nest of screwed-up parchment and stroking his little head fondly.

"You know we always do on full moon nights," Sirius said.

Remush reached up and placed Hamish in Sirius's lap and his heart leapt as his fingers lightly brushed Sirius's thigh.

"No," he said softly. "I mean if anything ever happened to me." He glanced at Hamish whose red and gold spines glinted in the soft light of the library. "I just want to know that you wouldn't give him away or anything."

"Remus, what's going on?" Sirius's voice was laced with panic. "Is something going to happen tonight?"

"Just my transformation. You know that. I just wanted to check." He almost wished he hadn't said anything, but he knew he had to – for Hamish.

Suddenly, Sirius's hands appeared and lifted Hamish off his lap and onto the table. They reappeared again, and before Remus had a chance to react, they had made a blind grab for him and pulled him out from under the table by his upper arms. Remus struggled violently. There was a reason he had hidden himself away in the library this evening, and he couldn't let Sirius see his face.

He was weak, though, and wasn't able to prevent Sirius from locking his upper body between his knees to keep him from escaping and roughly lifting his chin to the light. Even though the situation was desperate, Remus couldn't prevent his body from reacting to their position. It was as if now that he had acknowledged his feelings for Sirius, they had grown even more potent. He wondered if his blush showed around the fever-flush already on his cheeks.

"Merlin and Mordred, Rem!" Sirius swore. "What the _hell _is going on? Your face – how long have you been this ill?"

"It's just the transformation…" Remus started.

"Transformation, my arse! Tell me the truth!" He gave Remus's head a little shake for emphasis and Remus closed his eyes as a wave of nausea washed over him. "Oh God, I'm sorry!" Sirius pressed his palm to Remus's forehead. "You're so hot."

"Thank you," Remus said, completely unable to help himself.

In spite of himself, Sirius's mouth quirked into a half-smile. "Idiot. This is serious."

"And this is Remus," Remus said. "And Remus would be very grateful if Sirius would release him so he can go off and become a slavering monster for the night."

"Not until you tell me what's going on."

Remus suddenly thought that if he _did _die this night, Sirius would always blame himself. He realised with resignation that he would have to say something. "Okay, fine." He murmured. What could he tell Sirius? He didn't really want to lie to his friend. "It's not your fault. It's something else. A new secret of mine." He smiled up at Sirius and he hoped it didn't look as bitter as it felt. "You know me and secrets. I _never_ tell. Even if it kills me. But you can know it was nothing you've done. It's not your fault at all. Or James's, or Peter's, or even Lily's, before you ask."

"Damn it, Remus!" Sirius snapped. "This isn't a bloody game! You could _die _tonight if you're this ill."

"I might," Remus agreed softly. "Which means you won't have time to work out my secret." He sighed. "I never tell, but people always work me out anyway. Sometimes they're just too big to keep. They leak out."

"Tell me!"

"It's almost full moon. You'd best let me go."

"Never! Don't you remember Moony? You said it to me once. I got you. I won't let go."

"We were hanging off the edge of a stone wall," Remus said, wishing that Sirius meant those words in a different way – the way Remus had unconsciously meant them even as he had voiced them all those months ago. He wondered how it was that muggle songs seemed to dictate his life as much as they had his mother's. "You weren't threatening to tear me to shreds and eat me. Let go!"

"Tell me, Moony! Please?"

It was that last broken plea that broke through Remus's meagre defences. _A hint, _he thought. _He'll never make the connection, and I would have said it in a roundabout way. I would have told him that I love him. And I do. I know that right now. I love him. _

"Sirius," he said, breaking off from his struggles for a moment. "You don't know how much it means to me – everything you've done for me. No matter what, you're always there for me. When I'm sad, you act like a clown to cheer me up. When I'm scared, you're always around to help me fight my demons." Would Sirius ever make the connection? Remus truly didn't know, but it was too late to go back now. "I'll try not to die tonight, I promise. I mean, come on – I've looked worse."

"Not before the moon," Sirius said, his hands tightening on Remus's arms. "Moony's going to rip you to shreds."

Remus looked up into those concerned grey eyes and felt a sudden, desperate desire to press his mouth to Sirius's and kiss away the fear on his face. It was only his horror of how Sirius might react that prevented him from leaning those few crucial inches

"Let me go, Sirius. I really have to leave now."

Reluctantly, Sirius unclenched his knees so Remus's arms were no longer pinned to his sides and released him.

"You'll look after Hamish?"

"You know I will."


	39. Outranked by a Hedgehog

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the world of Harry Potter.**

_"Every worthwhile accomplishment, big or little, _

_has its stages of drudgery and triumph; _

_a beginning, a struggle and a victory." _

_(Ghandi) _

****

SIRIUS

"_JAMES!_" Sirius bellowed, as he tumbled through the portrait hole to the Gryffindor common room. "_JAMES POTTER, I'M LOOKING FOR YOU!_"

"Sirius? What's wrong?"

He swung round to see Rebecca. Her mouth was open in shock and she reached out for him. He shrugged her off impatiently. "I don't have time right now. I'm looking for _JAMES!_"

She winced as he yelled the last word. "I know. _Everyone _knows by now. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"It's Remus. He's sick again."

She rolled her eyes. "He's always sick. Come on, I'll make you feel better." She snaked an arm around his waist suggestively.

Sirius shook her off roughly. "Don't you get it, you stupid bint! He's _ill!_"

She froze. "_What _did you call me?"

Sirius closed his eyes. He really didn't have time for this. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean that. I'm just worried. Remus is ill. I have to find James and Pete."

She straightened and her anger visibly flared. "Why is it always about _them_?" she demanded. "That's all you ever talk about. Remus this, James that, Pete this… Don't you ever think about anything else?" She assumed a theatrical posture. "I'm sorry, Rebecca. I have to go to Quidditch practice with James! I'm sorry, Rebecca - I have to help Pete with his Potions homework. I'm sorry, Rebecca - I haven't seen Remus for a while, I must go check that he's not studying too hard!" Her imitation of him was cruelly accurate.

Sirius stared at her, white-faced. He thought he spent more than enough time with her. He had to force himself not to rush off to find his friends more often. She expected more of him?

"Rebecca, please! Remus is –"

"_Argh!_" She flipped her hair away from her face as she glared at him. "I _know_! He's the worst of the lot. 'Where's Remus, Rebecca? Have you seen him? Remus is ill, Rebecca, I have to go and check on him. I'm looking after Hamish for Remus, I have to return him. Do you think Remus will like this, Rebecca?'"

Sirius backed away from her until he was pressed against a wall. His mouth worked as he tried to think of a way to explain himself. "They're my friends," he mumbled eventually. "You have to watch out for your friends."

"And what am I? Or does 'girlfriend' feature so low on your list of priorities that even a _hedgehog_ outranks me?" She pointed viciously to Hamish, who Sirius had clutched to his chest.

Sirius was near to tears now. His fear for Remus, combined with confusion and hurt at Rebecca's attack on him in a crowded common room, had broken down most of his defences.

"Sirius, mate, what's going on?"

He looked up to see James and Peter scrambling down the stairs from the dorm with shocked expressions on their faces. They made their way through the now-silent common room to where Sirius and Rebecca were standing.

"We could hear you all the way from up there," Peter added.

"Moony," was all he managed to say, but it was enough. James and Peter took one look at his face and each grabbed one of his arms. They dragged him past Rebecca, who was spluttering indignantly, and up the stairs to the dorm.

"What's wrong? Did you find him? What happened?" Peter took Hamish from Sirius in an effort to prevent him from crushing the little animal in his feverishly protective embrace.

"Hey! I promised to look after him!" Sirius protested.

"You were squashing him," Peter said.

"I think Moony's going to kill Remus tonight," Sirius flung himself down on his bed and pressed his palms to his eyes. "You guys should have seen him. He looked really, really bad. He said he had a new secret and that was what's been upsetting him all this time. He wouldn't tell me what it was."

"Remus never tells his secrets," James said tiredly.

"That's what he said as well," Sirius felt as though his energy had been drained from him. "I'm going down as soon as the moon sets. If he's bleeding badly we have to stop it straight away and get him to the hospital wing."

"We'll come too," James said. "I wonder what his secret is? Maybe if we knew, we could help. Hey, I bet Evans knows! He's been flaky ever since his chat with her. And he's been avoiding her even more than us."

"Go ask her," Sirius begged James.

"You know she never talks to me except to hex me!" James protested.

"Please just try. She doesn't talk to me at all – especially since I started going out with Rebecca. Like she was even worth all the effort."

James raised his eyebrows. "Wasn't the snogging worth it?"

Sirius grunted and James sighed. "Fine," he said, shoving his glasses up his nose and standing. "I'll go and talk to her." He stalked out the room.

Sirius lay on his back and stared up at the canopy of his bed. The snogging hadn't been worth it. After all the build-up, speculation, and excitement, the experience itself had been a letdown. Although he boasted to his friends about it, he was still confused as to what all the fuss was about.

James appeared to take to snogging like a fish to water, but Sirius found it to be wet, slippery, and a little uncomfortable. He was never entirely sure what to do with his hands, or whether he was hurting some delicate part of Rebecca's unfamiliar body as he lay against her. She often ate spicy things for dinner and when she slipped her tongue in his mouth, Sirius sometimes felt almost nauseous at the taste of second-hand food.

He didn't dare tell either Rebecca, or any of his friends, how he felt. He was sure he was some freak of nature who didn't have the correct senses in his mouth or something. What would they think if he told them? The great, handsome, most eligible guy in school didn't enjoy snogging… he shuddered at the thought of _that_ ever reaching the Slytherins or his family.

That was part of the reason why he always made excuses to escape Rebecca. She always wanted to be snuggling and kissing. Why couldn't she like pranks, or Quidditch, or something? Then they would at least have something to talk about. To tell the truth, he had almost been hoping that Remus _would _ask him to dump her. That, at least, would have given him a good reason for doing so.

Remus… the thought of his friend brought his even more pressing worries to the forefront of his mind again. He felt sick at the thought of what they might find tomorrow. He decided to stop by the hospital wing on the way to the shack. Madame Pomfrey needed to see Remus as soon as possible.

"I hate to think of him being alone out there," Peter said, from where he was sitting on his own bed feeding Hamish.

"Me too," Sirius said. "Let's finish the translating for the first bit of the animagus transformation tonight. I'll never sleep anyway. We only have a little bit left to go. Then we'll be able to make the potion, start taking it and meditating to discover what animals we're going to be. If we had done it all by now, we could be out there with him."

Peter shook his head. "It's physically impossible to do it that quickly, Sirius. You know that. McGonagall said it would take a fully-trained wizard years to do it. We've just got to go as quickly as we can."

They both looked up as the door opened. James slunk in with his hands over his ears. Sirius sighed. "Let's see the damage, then."

James removed his hands to reveal that his ears had not only tripled in size, but also turned bright orange. The only thing that kept Sirius from laughing was his worry for Remus.

"Bloody hell, James. What did you say to her?" he asked, getting out his charm book and his wand to look up the counter-curse. "Honestly, if that girl was a Marauder, we'd be sorted. Her inventiveness never ceases to amaze me. Has she ever even repeated a hex?"

James scowled. "Just fix it, you git. This is your fault."

"So?" Sirius waved his wand and muttered a counter-curse. James's ears shrunk, but remained orange. "What did she say?"

"She wouldn't even talk to me properly," James said, rubbing his ears as Sirius tried another spell that turned the colour a little less day-glow orange, but didn't eliminate it. "I told her that Remus is very ill again, and that she had to tell me his secret so we could help him. And she said, 'what secret?' and I said, 'the one you found out that time he stormed out on you,' and she said, 'how the hell is that going to help him?' and I said, 'that's probably what's making him ill,' and then she laughed her head off and said, 'well, that would be a cliché. What part of him is ill?' so I said, 'none of your business, just tell me his secret' and she said she had no right to tell other people's secrets, especially Remus's, and she had promised not to tell anyway and that I had better go before she hexed me, and I said 'not until you tell me the secret,' and then she hexed me." James's face took on a dreamy expression. "She really is marvellous to look at when she's angry."

"Oh, well, bravo for your use of Marauder sneakiness on that one," Sirius said sarcastically. "You really sweet-talked it out of her." He cast the next spell rather more violently than was stricly necessary, causing the messy-haired boy to squeak and clutch his ears. "Did you sleep through _all _Moony's how-to-be-sneaky lessons?" He shook his head. "Whipped. You're completely whipped."

James gingerly touched his now-restored-but-painful ears. "How can you be sneaky when you're talking to someone? Sneaky is for pranking."

"_How _did you ever get a girl?"

"I told you," James said smugly. "Kemp practically threw herself at me. Good thing too, 'cos she snogs like a demon."

Sirius made a face. "You've been going out for two weeks. Don't you think it's about time you called her by her first name?"

"Why?" James asked. "She answers to her surname."

"It's more romantic."

"I'm not in love with the girl," James said dismissively. "I'm in love with Evans. Kemp is merely part of my plot to make her jealous. The snogging is a perk."

"Well, maybe you should call Evans by her first name."

"What _is_ it with you and first names?"

"Guys," Peter interrupted, "I thought we were going to finish translating the meditation bit for the animagus thing tonight. Shouldn't we get started? It's already late."

Sirius immediately went to his trunk and pulled out both Gertie Trebbletome's_ Advanced Animal Transfiguration and How Do It_, and their own 'Marauder Translation' notebook. "Lets get started," he said. I want to be done by the time the moon sets."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Madame Pomfrey was not amused at being dragged out of her bed before the sun had even risen. She opened the door to her rooms that flanked main ward of the hospital wing, and scowled at the three, slightly bedraggled looking boys, on her doorstep.

"_What _do you want at this horrible hour of the night?" she demanded.

"It's the morning," Sirius told her. "The moon just set. You must come with us to get Remus."

She blinked at him in confusion. "Why? I always get him just after sunrise. He'll be fine for a while longer. He's usually sleeping."

Sirius shook his head impatiently. "He's been really upset about something recently," he told her. "I mean _really _upset. He wouldn't tell us what it was, but I do know that he was afraid he might not survive this moon."

Madame Pomfrey froze for a few seconds. "The little devil," she whispered. "I should have _guessed _something was wrong when he just knocked on my door and told me he was fine to go out on his own and I didn't need to come with him. Did he look bad?"

"Do you think we would be here if he didn't?" James asked.

She began moving then, grabbing a bag from the hook on her door and opening the cupboard to retrieve bandages and potions. "You boys stay here. I don't need you interfering with any delicate procedures I might have to make."

"No way!" Sirius protested, following her to the door.

"He might be _dead_, Mr. Black," she snapped. "Do you think you could stand to see that? If you did _anything _to disturb him, it could cost him his life."

Sirius took a little step back, a vision of Remus's lifeless body lying in torn ribbons on the floor of the shack, rising in his mind.

"We'll wait," Peter whispered for all of them.

Madame Pomfrey didn't answer. She swung her bag over her shoulder and sprinted down the corridor.

What followed was the longest half hour of Sirius's life. When he at last heard footsteps coming down the corridor, he leapt to his feet and ran out to see Madame Pomfrey walking carefully towards him, her wand out, and Remus's still form floating in front of her.

"Is he?" Sirius whispered to her.

"He's alive," she said distantly. "Please step aside, Mr. Black."

He stood back with Peter and James and watched as she floated Remus's body into his own private room at the back of the main ward. She didn't emerge again for a long time, but Sirius knew she had contacted the Anders by floo, because all three remaining Marauders jumped violently when the fireplace of the main ward flared behind them and Neil and Angela stepped out.

"Is he okay?" Angela demanded, as soon as she saw them. "Tell me!"

"We don't know!" James told her. "She's been in there ages."

"You boys look terrible," Neil said. Sirius looked away from Remus's door to find himself being studied by the two adults. "How long have you been here?"

"Since the moon set," James answered again. Sirius couldn't bring himself to say anything.

Eventually, the door opened and Madame Pomfrey beckoned to Neil and Angela. "You can come and see him. He's stable for now."

"What about us?" Peter asked.

"Maybe later." She shut the door behind them and Sirius threw himself back on a bed growled.

"He's _our _pack-mate, not _theirs_!"

"He's their son," James pointed out.

"He hasn't been for long. We're more his family than they are!"

It seemed like hours before the door opened again and Madame Pomfrey peered out. "He's asking for you," she said curtly. "Be quiet and good. If any of you do so much as _speaks _above a whisper, I swear to Merlin I will throw you out."

The boys nodded and followed her into the room on tiptoe. The air in the little room was hot, and thick with the harsh scent of many potions. Neil and Angela looked up as they entered, then wordlessly stood up and moved away from the chairs beside the bed.

Sirius approached fearfully, dreading what he would see. When he at last caught sight of Remus's face he almost cried out. The tawny-haired boy looked corpse-like in the dawn light coming from the window. His eyes and cheeks were sunken and his pale skin was waxy. His eyes were closed and his breath came from his mouth in shallow, laboured pants; like an injured animal.

"He punctured a lung," Madame Pomfrey told them quietly. "And scratched himself nearly to pieces. The only time I've seen him worse than this was when we picked him up from his father's that Christmas in second year. Professor Slughorn and I have been working on a potion to reduce scarring. It will hurt a lot, but I have administered it anyway because I don't think it was fair to let him live with more scars like that. It works best on fresh wounds."

"Will it help his old scars?" James asked. "He hates them. We've never even seen him with his top off and we've lived with him for more than four years."

"It will take some time, but hopefully it should almost completely heal his burn scars and greatly reduce the ones caused by the wolf," Madame Pomfrey told him. "Wounds caused by a werewolf are notoriously hard to heal."

Remus shifted restlessly on his bed. Sirius saw his eyelids flutter as he struggled to open them. "Pack?" he asked in a faint, shallow voice.

"We're here, Moony," Sirius whispered.

"S'rius?" Remus's eyes half-opened and sought out Sirius's face. Remus tried to smile and his whole body shifted towards Sirius, causing him to let out soft whimpers of pain.

"Don't move, Moony," Sirius said, hurriedly sitting down and picking up one of Remus's hands. "I'm here. See? And James and Peter are here too."

"Pack," Remus murmured, and his voice was faint, but satisfied. His fingers curled weakly around Sirius's. "Moony pack."

"Yes," James said sitting on one side of Sirius while Peter took the chair on the other.

Remus's eyes drifted over James and Peter's faces, then settled on Sirius's again. "Hurts," he told them, each breath seeming to cost him.

"We're sorry," Peter said. "But don't talk. It'll make it worse."

"Hurts 'nside."

"We know, Moony." Sirius rubbed his thumb over Remus's palm and the werewolf's slender fingers curled around it. "You broke your ribs and one made your lung hurt. That's why breathing makes you sore."

"Mh-mm." Remus shook his head painfully. "Hurts, hurts _'nside_. Sad. Moony sad."

There was a long silence as the others in the hospital wing exchanged distressed glances. Then Sirius asked quietly, "why are you sad, Moony?"

Remus shook his again, his eyes drifting shut. "Secrets 'n secrets 'n secrets. Moony keep. Moony a'ways keep."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Done it!" Sirius said triumphantly, flinging down his quill and rocking back in his chair so it stood on two legs. "Eat your heart out, Gertie Trebbletome! From now on, everyone will use the Marauder version because it's actually in readable English. _And _we use the letter 's'."

"No they won't," Peter said, taking the notebook from Sirius and flicking through the pages. "The reason being that the Marauder version is illegal and if anyone found us with it, we'd probably be expelled – if not arrested."

"Well, when we become rich and famous and everyone knows our animagus forms, people will use it," Sirius amended.

"You're more likely to become infamous, mate," James told Sirius, rolling off his bed and kneeling in front of his trunk to pull out his school potions kit.

"Whatever," Sirius said. "Fame is fame. Who cares what it's for?"

"I'd like to hear you say that when you're hiding in someone's cellar while the world bays for your blood."

"Bays for my blood?" Sirius wrinkled his nose. "You've been spending too much time with Moony. That sounded like a book-thing."

"Pass the book, Pete," James said, sorting through his potions ingredients. He took notebook from the chubby Marauder and frowned as he scanned the recipe for the meditation potion. "There aren't too many obscure ingredients," he muttered. "And it only takes a day to make. It's really fiddly, though, and the actual meditation can take between three to ten hours to discover your inner animal. We'll need to nick some myrrh and snake root from Slughorn's stores."

"Let's do it tonight!" Sirius said eagerly. "Moony's going to be in the hospital wing for a few days. We may as well make use of the time to brew the potion. We could have discovered our animals by the time he's out. We're really getting there now!"

"That's the easy part," James pointed out. "The actual animagus potion is the most complicated thing I have _ever _seen. It takes four months to make and I have no idea how we're going to get hold of some of the ingredients. I mean – runespoor scales! Runespoors are a protected species. And what about the Veela hair? You have to pay a fortune for them, and only potions masters are allowed to buy them. And there are other things here that I haven't even heard of before.

"And if that's not bad enough, it takes incredible amounts of magical concentration to make the first complete change. After you've done it once, you're pretty much sorted, but apparently it's one of the hardest types of magic to achieve. It's wandless, wordless, and it changes the whole genetic makeup of your body, while keeping your brain and thoughts still human. To be perfectly honest, I have no idea how we're going to pull this off."

"I don't care," Sirius said stubbornly. "We're going to do it. If McGonagall can, I don't see why we can't."

"McGonagall is a Master of Transfiguration," James told him. "She's so good at it that she got her Transfiguration Newt at fifteen. My Dad says they begged her to work for the Ministry, but she chose to stay here and work for Dumbledore."

"I'll never be able to do it," Peter said miserably. "You guys are probably the brightest in our year so you _might _be able to pull it off, but I really have no hope."

"You _will_," Sirius told him. "We'll help you. Now lets do it one step at a time. We'll start with the meditation potion."

"Okay," James said. "And just to remind you – there's no backing out once we've started. Even though it's fairly easy to make, this potion is illegal unless you have Ministry approval. It says so right here. Once we've started, we have to keep going."

"I have no intention of backing out," Sirius said stubbornly.

"Nor me," James said.

The turned to look at Peter. The chubby boy jutted his chin forward, his eyes alight with determination. "I won't either," he promised.

"For Remus," Sirius said.

"Remus," the other two echoed.

Sirius felt excitement bubble up from his stomach and into his chest. If they could do this, they could do anything.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""


	40. The First Animagus Potion

**Disclaimer: I wish I had invented the amazing world of Harry Potter, but sadly I didn't, and unless I procure a rather large quantity of polyjuice potion and some world class writing skills, no one will believe I am JK Rowling… **

**Ladies and Gentlemen! We have finally reached chapter 40! I would like to take this time to say a special thank you to all of you who have been with me throughout this story, and plan on sticking with me as it progresses. Without you and your wonderful reviews, I would have given up a long time ago. I hope you enjoy this extra-long chapter. **

**Happy Halloween! **

**Moonsign x**

_**"For you, a thousand times over."**_

_**(The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini)**_

**REMUS:**

Remus didn't recover his mind until two days after the full moon. It was the longest time he had ever spent in his childlike state, and he was so frightened at the thought of never recovering that he made Pomfrey give him a quiz on all the hardest fourth year spells she could think of, just to check there was no permanent damage.

Madame Pomfrey was very patient with him. When he refused to tell her what had been upsetting him, she didn't push him. She reassured him through a fit of hysterics when he was sure that his mind was slipping away again. She went to the library and brought back piles of books to keep Remus amused while his friends weren't there and Angela and Neil had gone back to work.

In return, Remus never mentioned his hatred of being trapped in the hospital wing, and he never complained about the excruciating pain the scar-healing potion caused all over his body – even though he often felt as though his skin was literally melting off.

The Marauders, of course, visited him at every opportunity, bringing with them chocolate, sweets, books, and stories of pranks and Quidditch practice. On the third evening of his stay in the hospital wing, Sirius came in on his own, sneaking past Madame Pomfrey who was dealing with a group of second year potions accident victims.

"I brought Hamish," Sirius told Remus happily, lifting the hedgehog out of his pocket and into Remus's lap. "I think he's pining for you. If we let him wander round the dorm he always tries to climb on your bed as if he's looking for you." He pulled up a chair to Remus's bed and straddled it backwards.

"Poor thing," Remus murmured, running his hand gently over the red and gold spines. Hamish butted his hand with his little pointed nose. "I miss you too."

"When are you getting out?" Sirius asked, pulling a few chocolate frogs out of his pocket and putting them on the bed as well.

"I don't know." Remus sighed, casting a longing look at the door. "She says she has to keep an eye on the scar-healing potion's progress because it's new and she has to look for side effects." He shifted restlessly in his bed. "I hate being trapped in here."

"I know, Moony." Sirius put a comforting hand on Remus's arm and Remus silently scolded himself for leaning into the touch. "If it gets too bad, let me know and I'll come and get you out."

Remus smiled, remembering one of Sirius's letters from the summer before. "On your charger, right?"

"Exactly," Sirius said. "Though it's changed from being a white stallion to a motorbike. Much faster and less likely to up and die on me."

"But more likely to get you arrested for illegal use of magic on a muggle machine," Remus pointed out. "Anyway, I'm fine. My lung is mostly healed and the scar potion is doing wonders on my body. It hasn't looked this healthy since before my first transformation."

"Really?" Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Does this mean you'll actually come swimming in the lake with us for a change?"

Remus shook his head violently and clutched his pyjama top closer to his body. The thought of Sirius seeing his scarred, broken body and being revolted or even pitying was too terrible to contemplate.

Sirius sighed. "Always the same old Moony."

Remus pressed his lips together and thought of how much he'd changed since Christmas. Now he was not only a werewolf, but he was also gay and in love with his best friend. The gods really had to be laughing.

"It's not a bad thing," Sirius said, watching Remus's expression. "I wouldn't want you to change, Remus. I like you just how you are."

Remus looked away from Sirius's face. He picked up Hamish and held him to his face to study him. "I think he's getting fat. Have you guys been spoiling him?"

"You're deliberately changing the subject," Sirius said.

"Yes, I am actually. Go with it."

Sirius crossed his arms on the back of the chair he was straddling, rested his chin on them and raised an elegant black eyebrow.

Remus frowned.

"Fine!" Sirius said. "To answer your question, we _might _have been spoiling him a little bit. I told you – he was pining for you and he looked so sad wandering around searching for you."

"Well, now you've found me," Remus said sternly to Hamish, "I'm putting you on a diet. No more bacon for every meal. Hedgehogs are supposed to eat hedgehog food. Or dog food, in your case." Hamish looked up eagerly at the mention of the word 'bacon'.

"Poor Hamish," Sirius said. "That dog food really is vile."

Remus stared at Sirius. "You've been eating it?"

"Only a taste. I didn't want him eating something I wouldn't try."

"That's gross!"

"This coming from the bloke who invented cottage-pie-a-la-chocolate," Sirius said, rolling his eyes.

"You know perfectly well that chocolate goes with everything," Remus said defensively.

"Only in the world of Mr. Remus 'Moony' Lupin: Chocoholic Extraordinaire."

There was a knock at the door and they turned towards it.

"That's odd," Sirius said, cocking his head. "I didn't think James and Pete were –"

He broke off as the door opened and Lily's head peered round. Remus felt Moony's hackles go up as he smelled who was with her.

"What do you want, Evans?" Sirius demanded. "Does Madame Pomfrey know you're here?"

"Yes, actually, Black," Lily said, putting her nose in the air. "Does she know _you're _here?"

Sirius lazily made a rude hand gesture at her.

"Sirius!"

Remus sighed and lay back against his pillows in resignation as Rebecca's face appeared over Lily's shoulder, staring at Sirius disapprovingly. "That was rude!"

Sirius sighed. "Sorry, Evans," he said, not sounding in the least bit sorry. "Hey, Rebecca."

Rebecca's face broke out in a smile and she trotted over to perch herself on Sirius's knee. "I'm glad you've forgiven me for the other night," she said. "I didn't know Lupin was this ill." She kissed Sirius's cheek and Remus scowled, before glancing up to see Lily watching him with a knowing look on her face. His scowl deepened and he repeated Sirius's hand gesture at her.

"Remus!" Sirius sounded shocked.

Lily laughed, looking completely unruffled. "Oh, grow up, Black. You just did the exact same thing."

"Yes, but Remus is the _nice _one!"

Lily laughed even more. "That's what you think. If you only knew all the things he thinks about – "

"If you dare finish that sentence," Remus interrupted with a growl in his voice, "I will personally lock you and James in a closet together for three days and only let you out once you've made out with him for half an hour."

"That's a cruel and unusual punishment!" Lily accused, looking a mixture of amused and slightly disturbed.

"I am a cruel and unusual person," Remus answered, glowering at her.

"Wow." Sirius actually sounded awed as his gaze flicked between the two of them. "What did you do to him, Evans? It must have been something truly dreadful."

Lily suddenly looked repentant. "I came to say sorry for that, Remus," she said, turning to look at him. "I had no right to – you know – interfere like that. Even if I was right," she added, apparently unable to resist.

"You weren't right," Remus muttered, knowing it was useless.

"Yes I was. Anyway, you really look bad. What happened? I heard you had 'one of your attacks' again. Would you tell me what's wrong with you? Nobody seems to know. Frank Longbottom just said you've always been sickly. Right since first year."

"You have no right to ask him that," Sirius snapped, before Remus could answer. "You've obviously upset him and he doesn't have to tell you anything!"

"Aw, come on, Sirius," Rebecca said, shifting a little awkwardly on Sirius's knee as he was still straddling his chair. "She's been going on about it all week. Getting worried and feeling guilty and stuff. Let him tell her and give me some peace."

"No!" Sirius pushed her off his lap and shifted from his chair onto the bed so he was blocking Remus's sight of the girls. "I won't let you make him feel guilty for not telling you."

"Why don't you let him speak for himself?" Lily's famous temper flared. "You don't own him!"

She stepped forward and peered over his shoulder at Remus who, feeling too ill and tired to become involved in the argument, was cowering behind Sirius's rigidly protective back. He shot her a look that he hoped clearly said to her 'he _does _own me. I would give him everything I am if he only wanted me to.'

Lily's face softened and she took a little step back. "Fine. I shouldn't have asked, now, when you're ill."

"Please leave," Remus murmured.

"I really am sorry, Remus," Lily said, grabbing Rebecca's arm and dragging her friend to the door.

"Come, Sirius," Rebecca pleaded. "You've been with your friends all day. At least spend a bit of time with me."

"Not now, Rebecca," Sirius said, his voice curt. "One of my friends is in hospital. I'm sure you can understand that I want to be with him."

Rebecca looked like she was going to argue, but eventually she just sighed and followed Lily out the door.

Before he thought about what he was doing, Remus let out a sigh and wound both arms round Sirius's waist from behind, pressing his face against his friend's back. "Thank you, thank you, that you," he whispered fervently. "I don't think I could have…I mean I wasn't really…I wouldn't have known what to say…"

"I know, it's okay." To Remus's surprise, instead of pulling away from him, Sirius just placed his hands over the arms round his waist.

Remus, suddenly noticing the position they were in, pulled away quickly, flushing. He was glad Sirius had his back to him and couldn't see his expression. "You should have gone with Rebecca," he said. "She's your girlfriend. I'm fine here."

"I told you before," Sirius said glancing round to meet Remus's eyes. "Marauders over girls every time."

Remus felt a rush of pleasure fill him, but still said, "_she_ doesn't know that."

"If she doesn't know that by now, she really is living in cloud cuckoo land," Sirius answered. "I've made it clear enough. The Marauders are the most important thing. We'll always stand by each other first." He clasped his hands in his lap and looked down at them. "Would you tell me why you were so upset this moon?"

Remus felt his chest ache. "I _can't_, Sirius. I told you."

"Why?" Sirius looked up at him with a desperate expression in his eyes. "_Why _can't you tell me? I don't think you understand how bad it was for us as well, this month. We thought you were going to die. We were up all night worrying and fretting and not even knowing _why _it was happening." He looked away again. "I can't do that for another month, Moony. It was…it was really bad. I just can't do it again, and if we don't fix what's upsetting you, I'll have to."

"I won't let it happen again," Remus promised. "I'm more centred now. I've got used to it. I don't feel knocked off kilter any more. I won't let it happen again. Next month will be just like normal."

"How can I be expected to believe that?"

"I can only ask you to trust me."

Sirius let out groan of frustration, but eventually sagged in defeat. "Fine. I'll trust you."

Remus felt himself relax as well, and with it, he felt a new rush of hot fire lancing through him from his healing scars. Unable to help himself, he let out a soft whimper of pain.

"Oh, Moony," Sirius said, sliding off the bed and helping him to straighten up. "One of these days we're going to do something to help you. Now you should go to sleep and I should probably go and find Rebecca before she causes another scene."

"Yeah," Remus murmured, hiding his disappointment.

"'Night, then, Moony," Sirius said, standing up. "Escape soon. We miss you in the dorm. There's no one to beat James in a pillow fight and he's really getting unbearable. Not to mention all the Lily mooning."

Remus smiled. "I miss you guys too. It's no fun here."

"Except when I visit you," Sirius said.

"Well, of course _then _it is a barrel of laughs."

"I'll pretend that the sarcasm in your voice was a symptom of your fevered mind." Sirius patted him on the head, retrieved Hamish from where he was curled up in Remus's covers and sauntered out the room.

"Don't feed him too much bacon!" Remus called after him. "And I'm not a dog!"

He heard Sirius laugh as he headed out the hospital wing.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It was another three days before Madame Pomfrey allowed Remus to escape the hospital wing.

"You can't stop the course of the scar-potion," she told him sternly. "If you don't come here so I can apply it every second night for another two months, the potion will wear thin and many of the scars will not only stop fading, but also begin to get worse again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Madame Pomfrey," Remus said dutifully, willing to agree to anything in order to get out.

"You'll probably have to ask your friends for help with your back when I'm away on a conference at St. Mungo's at the beginning of March," she added.

Remus hesitated for only second before replying. "Yes. I will." He hated having to lie to her, but there was no option. There was no way he would ever show any of his friends – particularly Sirius – the battered, scar-ridden sight of his body. He hadn't gone to all the effort of hiding it for this long to give it up now. He was sure he could find a way to apply the potion on his own. "Can I go now?"

She sighed. "Yes, you may go. Try not to upset yourself too much this month. Another moon like that will be the death of me."

"It really would be the death of me," Remus answered. "I don't think I could survive another one. Don't worry. I will make sure I don't wind myself up so much again."

"See that you do." Madame Pomfrey hesitated for a second, before suddenly reaching out and drawing the surprised Remus into a quick hug. "You're my favourite patient. I would hate to lose you."

Remus put up a show of struggling, but inside he felt warmth filling him as the first adult who had ever showed him real kindness proved to him that she still cared.

"Go on then," she said, smiling and giving him a gentle push in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower.

Remus, feeling more light-hearted than he had since that fateful conversation with Lily, headed back to the Gryffindor Tower. He saw quite a few heads turn towards him as he climbed gingerly through the portrait hole.

"You okay, mate?" Frank asked, from where he was doing his homework in the common room. "I heard you were pretty bad for a while there. Black nearly savaged the whole Gryffindor population he was in such a mood."

"I'm fine," Remus assured him. "Much better. Sorry about Sirius. He worries."

"We noticed," Frank's friend, Michael said dryly. "You should keep him on a leash."

Remus decided not to answer that. "Do you know where my friends are?"

"I saw Black and Pettigrew heading up to your dorm a couple of hours ago," Frank told him. "I think Potter was already up there. They've been spending a lot of time up there recently. Probably planning pranks as usual."

Remus smiled. "Probably. Thanks, Frank."

"Anytime, mate."

Remus climbed the stairs to the dorm and paused for a second to listen outside. Even his sharp ears couldn't pick up any movement and he frowned in confusion. He quietly opened the door and peered inside. What he saw made his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline in surprise.

The other Marauders appeared to be meditating. They sat cross-legged in a triangle on the floor, breathing evenly. Their eyes were closed and their postures relaxed. Remus could barely believe his eyes.

James and Sirius taking up meditating? The thought seemed the wrong shape to fit comfortably in his mind. They hadn't even stirred when he came in.

Just then. Remus caught sight of three empty potion vials lying on the floor beside the boys. His breath caught in his throat and a feeling of dread rose in his stomach. What on earth could they be doing? He didn't dare disturb them in case it acted badly with whatever spell they appeared to be doing.

He crept over to his bed and spotted Hamish – looking rather replete and pot-bellied – sleeping peacefully on his pillow. He climbed on and pulled Hamish into his lap, settling to watch his friends, his heart hammering. He briefly considered going to Professor McGonagall, but he was afraid that what they were doing might be highly illegal, so he didn't dare.

He remained sitting there for almost two hours before Sirius suddenly let out a shrill scream and his whole body stiffened and jerked violently. His movement disturbed the others who blinked awake and stared at him in alarm

"What happened?" James demanded.

"The Grim!" Sirius gasped. "Oh _Merlin, _James! I saw the _Grim_! It's an omen of death." He shuddered violently. "It was a vision! What if Moony's in trouble?"

"Oh no," James's eyes widened.

"Lads!" Remus clapped his hands to get their attention, causing all three of them to jump and swing around to face him. "I'm right here. What the _hell _do you think you're doing?"

"Moony!" Sirius leapt up and launched himself at Remus. "You're alright!"

Remus yanked himself and Hamish out of the way just in time. "Sirius, watch it! I still have injuries you know, and I don't fancy another stint in the hospital wing. Now what on earth are you lot doing? I've been sitting here for hours."

The other began to look very shifty. "We were meditating," Sirius said. "To relax ourselves."

"With potion?" Remus pointed to the vials. "What are you _doing_? Meditation magic is strong stuff. You could have lost your minds!"

He saw the three of them exchange uncertain, but resigned glances.

"We found something to help you, Moony," Sirius said hesitantly.

Remus stared at his earnest grey eyes for a few seconds before he whispered, "what did you say?"

"At the full moon. We found something that will help you. We're working on it. But we didn't want to tell you in case you got your hopes up and it didn't work."

Remus stared at them, then at the vials. He caught sight of a notebook lying opened where Sirius had been sitting. It must have been obscured by his robes when Remus came in. He could just make out the words 'Marauder Translation' written along the top in Sirius's elegant copperplate handwriting.

"What are you doing? Tell me! Is it dangerous?"

He scrambled off his bed and made a grab for the book before James could stop him. He flicked his eyes up to the first line.

'Becoming an animagus is a difficult…'

Remus stopped reading before he even completed the first sentence.

"_WHAT!_"

"Remus, let us explain," Peter begged.

"Do you have any _idea _how dangerous this is?" Remus yelled at them, waving the notebook furiously. "What the h-_hell _were you thinking? This is not only _dangerous_, but it's also _illegal_! _Did that ever c-cross those thick Gryffindor minds of yours? _You could go to _Azkaban _for this!"

"McGonagall said werewolves don't attack animals, but they could calm them down so they don't hurt themselves at full moon," James said quickly, as Remus paused to take a breath. "But animals are afraid of werewolves. If we _became _animals, we could keep you company and stop you hurting yourself. Can you imagine that Rem? You could wake up after your transformation with no new wounds. No new scars."

Remus was struck dumb. Was it possible? Could the solution to the end of the most painful part of his life really be this simple? He could wake up after his transformation without the burning agony of ripped flesh and cracked ribs. He would never have to worry about dying of blood loss every time he changed. It was a wonderful, mind-blowing thought that made him want to scream for joy.

He looked down at the notebook again. _'Becoming an animagus is a difficult and dangerous task to undertake…'_

He couldn't let them do this. Powerful, fully-grown wizards had been defeated by this spell. Many were permanently trapped in a half-animal, half-human form. Others lost their minds completely to the animal – changing too much. Other retained their human minds, but remained trapped in animal form. Three fifteen-year-old boys had no hope of ever pulling it off successfully.

"I can't let you do this," he whispered, his hands shaking as he held the book. Not only is it illegal, but it's also dangerous. You could never do it, and I couldn't bear to have you permanently damage yourselves trying."

"But Remus," Sirius protested. "This could save your life. We could give you something you've not had since you were five. Don't you want that?"

Remus dropped the book and grabbed Sirius by the shoulders, giving him a hard shake. "_Yes, _I want it, _dammit_! But not at the risk of _losing _you. I would rather tear myself to pieces every full moon than be responsible for ruining your lives and possibly your minds. I _know _what it's like to be stuck with the mind of an animal, or trapped in an animal's body against my will. I can't let that happen to you. I would die first."

"You _will _die!"

"Then so be it!"

Sirius glared at him, actually panting in anger, or perhaps from Remus's forceful shaking. "I don't care," he said, shifting so his face was directly in front of Remus's. "I'm going to do this and you can't stop me. I've memorised the process now so even if you destroy that book you can't stop me. I'm going to do this and if you hinder me it will only make it more dangerous." He froze suddenly, realisation coming over his face, followed by a delighted smile. "The _Grim._ I'm the _Grim._ I'm such an idiot! I'm a giant black dog. That's my form!"

He pulled himself away from Remus and began doing what looked like an Indian war-dance around the room. "I'm the Grim, I'm the Grim, I'm the Grim!" He pointed his finger at James and Peter who were staring at him with half delighted, half envious looks on their faces. "Take that, you hedgehogs!"

"They're hedgehogs?" Remus asked in alarm.

"No!" James said indignantly. "We don't know what we are yet. That idiot there interrupted our meditation. I'm bound to be something better than some stupid dog."

"I'll bet I'm a hedgehog," Peter said miserably.

"Nothing wrong with hedgehogs," Sirius said, obviously feeling benevolent in his triumph. "We all love Hamish."

"Nobody is _anything_," Remus interrupted. "On account of the fact that you're going to stop this stupid nonsense before it gets too far!"

"Forget it, Moony," James said. "You're not stopping us. Like Sirius said. I'm taking more potion tonight, and I'm going to find out what I am."

"You're _not!_" Remus said in frustration.

"Remus," Sirius said, putting an arm around Remus's shoulder. "Do you honestly think you can stop us?"

Remus's head drooped as he realised that in truth, he really had no way of stopping them. They had already gone too far for him to report it, and he had no way of stopping them on his own.

"Please," he begged. "Please, please for _my _sake, don't do this."

"It's for your sake we _are _doing this," Peter said, a look of determination in his face that Remus had never seen before. "James, give me some more potion."

Remus watched helplessly as James obediently went to his chest and pulled out two more vials, handing one to Peter and keeping one for himself.

"What if you take an overdose?" Remus demanded. "You've already had one tonight."

"The effects of the potion wear off as soon as the user's meditation is broken," James assured him. "Now you and Sirius must go sit somewhere quietly so you don't disturb us."

"Please. I beg you. Don't do this," Remus pleaded

"Just cast a silencing charm round yourselves," Sirius suggested, as though Remus hadn't spoken. "You'll need something to attach it to, so you and Pete could sit on a bed and draw the curtains. I'm not leaving the room. I want to stay here and dream about being a Grim. Ooh! I need to think up a Marauder's name for me."

James scowled. "Can't you go off and snog Rosemary for a bit? At least Remus is quiet."

"Rosemary?" Remus asked faintly, his attention diverted. "Don't you mean Rebecca?"

"Nope," Sirius said cheerfully. "Rosemary from Hufflepuff. Remember she was watching me at the Quidditch game and you said she fancied me? I dumped Rebecca. I went to see her the other night after I left you and she said I had to choose between you guys and her."

Remus didn't know whether to feel touched, confused, or irritated. "So now you're going out with Rosemary?" Couldn't Sirius just give his battered heart a break and give up girlfriends for a few days? "Why? Do you fancy her?"

Sirius shrugged. "She's pretty. Nice eyes."

"Just because she's pretty doesn't mean you have to go out with her!" Remus said, unable to keep the rising frustration from his voice. "If you don't fancy her, you shouldn't. That's how you end up breaking people's hearts. If she doesn't work out for you, are you going to move on to… I don't know… Sarah Darwood from Ravenclaw?"

"Why?" Sirius asked with interest. "Does she fancy me too?"

Remus growled and punched his bed post. It cracked and bent. He glared at it before pulling out his wand and casting _reparo._ "You know that's not what I meant," he snapped at Sirius. "You don't have to go out with people just because they fancy you!"

"Well, if I don't fancy anyone, it's a good place to start, isn't it?"

"If you don't fancy anyone, don't go out with anyone!"

Sirius scowled. "You have no right to tell me who not to go out with! I'm allowed to make my own choices. I don't see you having a go at James about Bronwyn, who he's using worse than me. He doesn't even call the girl by her first name!"

"Hey, hey!" James protested. "Leave me out of this. Come on, Pete. Let's do this thing." He gestured to his bed and the two of them sat on it cross-legged. They drew the curtains round them and Remus heard James mutter a silencing charm before all went quiet from their side.

"You know, to anyone else, that could have looked very dodgy," Sirius commented, looking at James's closed bed curtains.

Remus sighed, putting his head in his hands. He felt terrible for how he had attacked Sirius. He knew deep down that it wasn't his concern for the girls, but his own feelings that had made him do it. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. You _do _have the right to make your own choices."

His bed dipped as Sirius sat down beside him. "I don't do it to break their hearts, you know," he said eventually. "I really do want to go out with someone. I just… it didn't feel right with Rebecca, you know? I thought maybe it would feel different with Rosemary."

"Does it?" Remus asked.

"I don't know. I think I need some time to see. She's not as pushy as Rebecca. She doesn't demand to see me all the time."

"Is that a good thing?"

Sirius smiled wryly. "Who knows? I have no idea how girls' minds work."

"One of the mysteries of the male world, hm?"

"I guess."

Remus ran his fingers reflectively over the repaired post of his bed. "Please don't do this animagus thing," he said softly. "I've read some truly _horrible _things about what can go wrong. I read a book by this Transfiguration Master called Gertie Trebbletome and she said – "

"_WHAT!_" Sirius gaped at him and Remus stopped in confusion.

"What's the matter?"

"You read Gertie Trebbletome's _Advanced Animal Transfiguration and How To Do It _for _fun_?"

"Well, I wouldn't actually call it _fun_," Remus admitted. "I bought it from a second hand book shop in Diagon Alley. It's a bit archaic, but some of the things she writes about are really interesting." He glanced at Sirius who was still gaping at him. "I'm surprised you know about it to be honest."

"You owned it," Sirius said faintly. "You'd read it. You could have saved us _months_, no, _years_ of work."

"That's the book you translated?" Remus asked, glancing down at the notebook. "Well, I guess it is the only reliable written method of the animagus transformation process in existence. Most people who register get tutors from the Ministry."

"How do you know so much about it anyway?" Sirius demanded.

Remus shrugged. "We had that homework assignment on it, remember? In third year. And I was reading a book that said it is the most complicated human transfiguration in existence because it's permanent. And that got me thinking because '_human _transfiguration' was an odd term to use. Does that mean a werewolf couldn't do it? Every human being has an inner animal. I was wondering if the wolf had …you know… destroyed mine. I know that a big part of me is wolf, and I just wondered if I had any of my old inner animal left or if that part of me had died forever. And what would happen if I tried to become an animagus?"

Sirius visibly shuddered. "Great Merlin, you have morbid thoughts, Moony. _Promise _me that you'll never try it."

"Promise me you won't either."

"Remus, you know I have a chance of succeeding. Heaven only knows what would happen if you tried. You could get stuck as an insane, rampaging wolf forever, and I would never be able to turn back human or play Quidditch because I would always have to be there to stop you hurting yourself."

Remus wondered if it was actually possible to melt with fondness. His insides were having a good go at it anyway. "You would stay with me if I got trapped as Moony forever?"

"Of course I would," Sirius said, looking at him oddly, as though he had just asked a very stupid question. "Whether you were completely wolfish, or just stuck in your post-full-moon state. You think I would just run off and leave you in some cage or mental hospital or something? Post-moon-you likes me the best anyway," he added boastfully.

Remus flushed, but continued to stare at Sirius, unable to say anything. He had never seen anyone so handsome or kind or wonderful in his whole life. He knew for a fact that Sirius had ruined him for anyone else. No one – male or female – would ever live up to him in Remus's eyes.

"Are you seriously telling me you didn't know that?" Sirius said, looking a little uncomfortable. "Don't you know that's what best friends are for?"

"No," Remus answered. "I never had one before you."

"Well, then we're the lucky ones who snagged you first," Sirius said. "Now help me think up a name for my doggy-me."

"Please reconsider."

"Nope," Sirius shook his head. "Now use that marvellously intelligent brain of yours for something other than planning ways to sabotage our efforts and think of a good name for me."

Remus groaned and flopped back on his bed. He knew when he was defeated. "Fine!" He lay, staring up at his canopy for a long time. "If it wasn't already your name, I'd say 'Sirius'," he commented. "It's a bit ironic, you know. Sirius being the dog-star. And you being a Black."

"It's destiny," Sirius said dramatically, flopping back beside Remus. "Now, since that _is _my name, please come up with something slightly more imaginative."

Remus screwed up his face in thought. "How about 'Grim'? That's what you said you look like."

"I do," Sirius said. "But Grim is a horrible name. It doesn't suit my magnetic personality and brilliant good looks."

"Or that stellar modesty," Remus agreed. "Alright, how about 'Padfoot'?"

"Padfoot?" Sirius asked doubtfully. "Where did that come from?"

"In Sussex, there is a legend about a giant, black, spectral dog similar to the Grim. It's called Padfoot. I thought it sounded more bouncy and less …er… grim than 'Grim'. It's better than 'Moony' anyway."

"Nothing wrong with 'Moony'," Sirius said. "Hm…Padfoot. You know, I quite like it."

"Alright then, Mr. Padfoot," Remus said, smiling. "Can I just ask you _not _to get stuck in that form? I would hate to have to translate for you for the rest of your life."

"You speak 'dogish' Mr. Moony?" Sirius asked, grinning delightedly.

"I speak 'canine-ish'," Remus said. "It's not hard. There's only about fifty words in the vocabulary. 'eat', 'food', 'chase', 'kill', 'pack', 'run', 'mate', 'play'… you get the picture anyway. Not a great language for philosophising in."

"This is so cool!" Sirius said. "I wonder if – "

There was a loud thump and they both turned to see James roll off his bed and away from the silencing charm. As soon as he was out, he started yelling, "_I'm a stag, I'm a stag!_" and doing Sirius's war dance round the room. "Take _that _you slobbering canines!"

"You're a stag?" Remus asked. "You're arrogant, loyal, stubborn, and always barrel into things head-first. It's fitting."

"Was that a compliment?" James asked, confused.

"It was," Remus assured him. "It suits you perfectly."

"Yeah, Prongs," Sirius said. "It does."

"Prongs?" James looked insulted. "You can do better than that!"

"Nope. It goes with your prongy hair and your soon-to-be antlers."

"I don't like it."

"Well, you're stuck with it now," Remus said. "We'll never call you anything else."

Just then, there was another thump and Peter rolled off the bed, his face devastated.

"Pete!" Remus said, rushing over to him. "What's wrong? It's not a hedgehog is it? You know, they really aren't that bad. Come on. It can't be that awful."

"It's worse than a hedgehog," Peter whispered, looking very pale. "I can't believe it. It's horrible!"

"What is it?" Sirius asked, coming over. "A frog? A flea? A stag?" he shot James a teasing glance.

"A rat," Peter whispered, looking mortified.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"It's really a good thing," Remus said, as the Marauders headed down to breakfast the next morning. He couldn't help but to contemplate wryly over the fact he was now effectively encouraging their scheme, instead of discouraging it like he should be. But he never had many defences against his friends' hurts, and Peter's unhappiness wrenched at his heart.

"It's not," Peter said miserably. "Moony could kill me with one bite. How will I stop you hurting yourself? And rats are horrible! They're twitchy and scurrying and they have tails like worms."

"He has a point," Sirius agreed, patting Peter consolingly on the back.

"He does not!" Remus insisted. "Rats are brilliant! Think of all the things you have going for you. You you're very fast. You could easily avoid my jaws if I took a snap at you. You can squeeze into very tight spaces – think of all the brilliant pranks we could pull because of that! You could sneak into the Slytherin common room and no one would bump into you like they would in the invisibility cloak. And if all else fails, you can run out and make a dash at the nearest girl and you have a full scale panic attack that will give you a chance to dash to safety. In fact, a rat is probably the most Marauderish animal there is. The ultimate in sneakiness."

He looked up to see the other three staring at him open-mouthed.

"_I _want to be a rat!" James declared. "What use is a stupid old stag? Just think of all the pranks I could pull…" his face took on a dreamy cast.

"I really _can _do all that stuff, can't I?" Peter asked, his voice hopeful. "It's not a bad thing to be, is it?"

"I keep telling you that," Remus said, smiling at him and slinging an arm over his shoulders. "When will you learn that I'm always right?"

"You _are_ always right," Sirius agreed, looking rather put out. "It's incredibly annoying. How do you manage it?"

"That's another one of my famous secrets," Remus told him. "One of the ones you're not going to find out."

"So you're not so bad after all, Wormtail," James said, pulling Peter away from Remus and into a cheerful headlock.

"_Wormtail!_" Peter shrieked in an indignant – if rather muffled – voice.

"If I have to be Prongs, you have to be Wormtail."

"I'm not answering to it," Peter said stubbornly.

"Well, we're not going to call you anything else," Sirius informed him, sniggering. It was the kind of snigger that gave sniggering a bad name. Remus gave him a reprimanding look.

"We'll think of something else, Pete," he assured the chubby Marauder who was currently trying to escape James's hold.

"No we won't," James and Sirius said together.

"You've been christened Wormtail, mate," Sirius said. "It's a sad truth that you're going to have to live with."

Peter scowled. "When I can turn into a rat, I'm going to gnaw chunks out of your prize Comet 260," he promised Sirius.

"Fine, Wormtail," Sirius said. "Then when I can turn into a dog, I'll open your trunk and cock my leg into it."

"Eew!" The other three said together, staring at him in disgust.

"What?" Sirius asked, looking unrepentant. "It's what dogs do."

"No wonder that's what your inner animal is," James muttered.

They entered the Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table. Remus almost jumped out of his skin when there was a high-pitched shriek of, "Sirius!" followed by a chestnut-headed blur before Sirius received a lapful of happy Hufflepuff.

Remus raised an eyebrow as he fought down his instinctive reaction; a mixture of hurt and jealousy. Sirius, who was sitting opposite him, looked rather embarrassed.

"Hey, Rosemary," Sirius said, giving her a peck on the lips and shoving her pointedly onto the seat beside him. "I don't think you're allowed to sit at the Gryffindor table.

"They won't mind just this once," Rosemary told him airily. "And I hardly saw you at all yesterday."

_Brilliant,_ Remus thought darkly, trying not to catch Lily's eye from where she was watching the scene with an expression of knowing sympathy. _What a pleasant way to start my day. _


	41. The Second Secret

**Disclaimer: I don't own the world of Harry Potter. It's all JK Rowling's. **

**Warning: talk of slash relationships**

**Hi! **

**Sorry this chapter has taken a bit longer than normal. Hope you enjoy it! As always, I would be very grateful if you would take the time to review. **

**Moonsign x**

_I got you to hold my hand_

_I got you to understand_

_I got you to walk with me_

_I got you to talk with me_

_I got you to kiss goodnight_

_I got you to hold me tight_

_I got you, I won't let go_

_I got you to love me so_

_Babe. I got you, babe._

_(Sonny and Cher)_

**SIRIUS: **

True to his word, Remus's next transformation wasn't the life and death situation that his previous one had been. Although Sirius knew his friend was still very uptight about something, he appeared to have become used to whatever it was and once again used his legendary iron will to squash it down before the transformation.

As they drew close to mid-February, the Marauders – including a very reluctant Remus – began making plans for obtaining the ingredients for the second potion of the animagus transformation. Although the potion contained _some _everyday ingredients, many of them were so corrosive, volatile, and powerful that only Potions Masters were legally allowed to have them in their possession. The Marauders spent a lot of time trying to come up with plans to obtain them without venturing down the dangerous route of trying to buy them illegally from somewhere in the infamously flourishing black market of Knockturn Alley.

One day in February, just as spring was beginning to show its first tentative leaf-green signs of emerging, Sirius was up in the Marauder's dormitory in an effort to escape Rosemary for a few hours. The girl was becoming as bad as Rebecca had been when it came to the subject of Sirius's friends.

The rest of the Marauders were down in the common room taking part in a fourth and fifth year boys-versus-girls Gobstone competition which Remus – with his superior reflexes – appeared to be winning when Sirius left.

Sirius now lay on his bed with an advanced charms book from the Restricted Section of the Library (which he had nicked with the aid of James's cloak), and the tape-player he had bought at the muggle electrical shop. He had spent the last few weeks working on charms to alter the machine so it could play in magical surroundings and he was sure he almost had it conquered. He couldn't wait until he could present it to Remus for his birthday in March.

He carefully held up his wand and cast the last spell, making sure he did the intricate wand movement perfectly. One small mistake could ruin weeks of work at this point. He held his breath, his eyes fixed on the little red 'power' light on the top of the machine. After a long moment, there was a faint buzzing from the machine and the tiny bulb lit up.

Sirius let out an explosive breath and felt a grin of victorious delight spread across his face. He'd done it! Remus would be so happy. He could listen to his mother's muggle songs as much as he wanted now.

Sirius crawled to the end of his bed and rummaged round in his trunk to pull out the bag of tapes Remus had reluctantly picked out at Sirius's insistence. He pulled one out at random and looked at the picture on the front. It was in black and white – completely still, as all Muggle photos were – and depicted a woman with black hair and a man holding hands in a tree. The title was 'Look at Us' and identified the tree-sitting Muggles as 'Sonny' and 'Cher'.

He pulled it out of its case and, after a few false starts, succeeded in slotting it into the tape player correctly. He hesitated for a few seconds, then pressed 'play'. When nothing happened for a few long moments, he thought he had failed. Then suddenly music emerged from the speakers, as clearly as if it were being played on a wizard's wireless.

Sirius let out a whoop of delight as a voice emerged and began to sing. Remus would _love _this and Sirius had done it for him.

"…_**Babe…"**_the voices sang. _**"…I got you, babe… They say we're young and we don't know, and we won't find out until we grow…"**_

Sirius lay back and listened. He wondered if Remus's mother had played this to him when he was young – a tiny, non-werewolf Remus with huge amber eyes, listening and singing along.

"…**Babe…I got you babe…I got you babe…I got flowers, in the spring…I got you to wear my ring…"**

He rolled onto his stomach and pulled out the rest of the tapes, sorting though them and wondering what the significance of each one was for his friend.

"…**And when I'm sad, you're a clown… and if I get scared… you're always around…So let them say your hair's too long 'cause I don't care…with you I can't do wrong…"**

Sirius frowned as the words of the song broke through his mental reverie. They sounded so familiar – as though they were meant entirely for him. He couldn't shake off the feeling that someone had said them to him before.

"When I'm sad, you're a clown," he said out loud, trying to remember. "When I'm scared you're always –" he broke off as it suddenly came to him.

His mind was dragged back to that night in the library when he had Remus trapped beneath the table in the library – sick, frightened, believing he was going to die.

"Tell me, Moony! Please?" he had begged, and he had been sure he'd seen Remus's resolve break. He had been sure Remus was finally going to tell him his secret. But his friend hadn't told him a thing. All he had said was

"_Sirius, you don't know how much it means to me – everything you've done for me. No matter what, you're always there for me. When I'm sad, you act like a clown to cheer me up. When I'm scared, you're always around to help me fight my demons." _

Sirius slowly reached out and pressed the 'rewind' button on the machine and then 'play' again, his heart hammering – though he wasn't sure why. It felt as though he were on the edge of discovering something vitally important, and that if he could hear those words again he would know what it was.

"… _**I'm sad, you're a clown… and if I get scared… you're always around…So let them say your hair's too long 'cause I don't care…"**_

Sirius sat back as the song continued to play and tried to organise his thoughts. What did it mean? Was it coincidence? Much as he told himself it had to be, Sirius couldn't help thinking of Remus standing alone under the moon, singing his Muggle songs and wishing on blood and moonshadows. To Remus, Muggle songs were almost sacred. They were a connection to his past and his mother. Sirius was sure it couldn't have been by chance that Remus had used those exact words, and then later chosen this particular tape when Sirius had made him pick out his favourite muggle music. So what had Remus been trying to tell him in his own worried, eccentric way?

"… **I got you to kiss goodnight, I got you to hold me tight… I got you, I won't let you… I got you to love me so…"**

For the second time, Sirius felt his stomach leap up into his throat and he jabbed at the 'rewind' button again.

"…**I got you, I won't let go…I got you to love me so…babe…I got you, babe…I got you babe…"**

"I got you, I won't let go," he whispered aloud to himself, pressing a shaking finger on the 'stop' button. "What the _hell _is going on here?"

"_It's the full moon. You'd best let me go."_

"_Never! Don't you remember Moony? You said it to me once. I've got you. I won't let go."_

"Damn it, Rem!" Sirius groaned now, feeling frustration welling up inside him. "Why do you always have to be so bloody cryptic? What did you want me to work out from what you were saying?"

And then it came to him in a flash of understanding. Remus didn't _want _him to work it out. He hadn't expected Sirius to work it out at all. He had never dreamed Sirius would have the patience to fix the tape player – even if he had thought of it at the time. What he had said to Sirius on that night was a last minute decision; something he had felt was important to say in case he died.

_He didn't say it for me_, Sirius realised, his breath catching in his throat. _He said it for himself. It was something he needed to tell me, but that he didn't want me to understand. It was another one of his own private little rituals – like singing to the moonshadows. It was something intensely personal. _

"_Damn_, I'm good," Sirius whispered out loud. "And as usual, I'm going to work out your secret, Remus Lupin."

He pressed 'rewind' on the tape player and listened to the song again. What could he tell about the song? It was about a young couple. It was old. It was about two people who no one thought would work out together. It was…

"…**I got you to kiss goodnight, I got you to hold me tight…I got you, I won't let go…I got you to love me so…babe…I got you, babe…I got you, babe…"**

…It was a love song.

Sirius's mouth fell open and his brain struggled to comprehend what it could mean.

It was exactly like that day in second year when he had come to the realisation that Remus was a werewolf. So many things – little niggling things that never quite made sense – began to fall into place.

Remus hated Sirius going out with girls, and yet he didn't really care that what James was doing to Bronwyn was much worse.

Post-moon Remus – a Remus with all his shields down – very obviously liked Sirius the best of all his pack.

A discussion with Lily Evans – a discussion where she had discovered a new, big, secret of Remus's – had left the werewolf so horrified and off-balance that he had nearly killed himself the next full moon.

The discussion with Lily occurred on the same day that Sirius had asked Rebecca out.

Everything pointed in one direction, and Sirius could not avoid coming to an obvious conclusion. Remus liked him. No – more than that. Remus fancied him; was attracted to him in a definitely non-friend-like way. Remus was gay and he fancied Sirius.

"Bloody hell," Sirius whispered, feeling as though his whole world was falling away. He had no idea how to react. Was he supposed to be disgusted? Should he confront Remus? Should he pretend he didn't know and ignore what he had discovered? Should he pity Remus's position – stuck alone again in the knowledge that he was even more different than before and wanting to be with someone who was dating girls like they were going out of fashion?

He though of Remus curled up on his bed while James and Sirius had watched helplessly; unable to comprehend what had upset him so much_. "And I _want_ their pity because it's almost like caring, but sometimes it's not enough."_ Remus had said, his voice full of self-loathing. _"And sometimes I just want someone to stand up for me and say 'That's enough hurt for Remus. He's enough of a freak now. Leave him alone. Don't give him anything else to bear. He doesn't want hate or hurt or beating or even pity anymore, because he's tired now. Now he just w-w-wants to s-s-sleep."_

"Ah, Rem," Sirius murmured. He couldn't bring himself to feel angry or disgusted, only very, very sad. "You poor sod. The fates really do have it in for you, don't they?"

Sirius knew, then, what he would do. He would pretend he had not discovered anything. This was Remus's secret, and now he knew why his friend had kept it that way. Sirius would act completely normal. He couldn't condemn Remus for loving him a bit more than he should. He didn't care when it was a girl that fancied him, did he? Why should this be any different?

But Remus is a boy, some part of him said. It's not right. It's a perversion. It's wrong. My family have murdered people for less than that in their time. But another, larger, part of him said, Exactly. When have your family ever been right about anything?

Sirius sat up and straightened his shoulders. He pressed 'stop' on the tape player again and ejected the tape, placing it carefully back in its box. Without knowing why, he slipped that tape right into the bottom of his trunk, away from all the others in their bag.

"Sirius?" He looked up to see James standing in the doorway watching him. "What're you doing up here all on your own?"

"What does it look like?" Sirius answered, still distracted. He gestured to the tape-player and tapes that littered his bed.

"I dunno. Wanking to music?" James suggested.

Sirius made a face. "Is that all you think about?"

"Nope. Sometimes I think about Evans."

"I rest my case," Sirius said. "That _is _all you think about."

"I sometimes think about pranks and you guys as well," James protested.

"Oh Merlin, please tell me you don't wank while you do," Sirius begged. "I don't think I could cope with that as well right now."

"Gross! Of course not!" James said, looking disgusted. "Why would you think that?"

"You really don't want to know." Sirius gestured James over to his bed. "I fixed the muggle tape-player to work in a magical environment," he explained. "I'm giving it to Moony for his birthday." Even as he said it, a part of him wondered how Remus would take the gift. Was Sirius accidentally leading him on? What had he actually done that caused Remus to fall in love with him in the first place?

Much to his relief, James didn't seem to find his choice odd. "Cool. Does it really work?"

"Of course it does," Sirius said. "What do you take me for?"

"Do you really want me to answer that, Padfoot?"

Sirius grinned at the use of his new name. Remus really was a genius for thinking of it. _At least I know I don't only attract the ditsy ones, _he thought, contemplating the vast majority of his fan girls. "Do you want to hear something played on it?" Sirius asked James, feeling slightly more cheerful as his mind began to grow used to the idea of Remus's latest secret.

"I would, but not now," James said. "Moony'll be coming up in a bit. He's just gone with Pete to see Madame Pomfrey to have his scar-potion applied again. I guess you want to keep it a secret for now?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, gathering the tapes together and dropping them into the bag, before placing them and the machine in his trunk. He looked up as James threw himself on his bed. "Do _you_ reckon he's still acting a bit odd?"

"Well, he just whipped all our butts at Gobstones," James said, "So I reckon he's okay physically. I mean, he'll be sore with the scar-potion, 'cause that always hurts him, but other than that…" he shrugged. "Mentally? With Remus, it's hard to tell. But I still reckon there's something that's eating away at him that he's not telling us."

"Me too," Sirius murmured.

"Moony has too many secrets," James said. "It has to be unhealthy."

"Maybe he keeps them for good reasons."

"But why keep them from us? We're his mates."

Sirius looked away. "Good reasons," he repeated.

The door of the room opened and Peter and Remus came in, the chubby Marauder supporting Remus who looked pale and sweaty as the potion went to work on his body.

"Hey Padfoot, Prongs." He nodded to the two dark-haired boys as Peter helped him to his bed. "You hear I beat everyone at Gobstones?" he asked Sirius, a proud smile alighting on his pain-lined face. "Even fifth-years."

Sirius looked into those amber eyes and felt a rush of compassion rise in him. It wasn't pity, because there was too much respect and care in what he felt. He could give Remus this praise. It cost him nothing, and he knew it probably meant a lot more to the smaller boy.

"I heard," he said. "They should have known no one can beat our Moony when it comes to things like that. Your reflexes are just too good."

Remus beamed at him and Sirius wondered how in the world he had not noticed how much his words meant to the werewolf before. He had never been particularly observant, but he had to have been walking round with his eyes shut to have missed that.

He glanced at James and Peter who appeared to think there was nothing odd about Remus's reaction.

"What were you up to, here on your own?" Remus asked him, reaching under his pillow from his pyjamas.

"Wanking," James supplied helpfully.

"I was not!" Sirius said, blushing even more furiously that he would have before, because now he was aware of Remus's feelings for him.

"Really?" James asked, grinning slyly at him. "Then what were you doing?"

"I was making your birthday present, Moony." Sirius ignored James with as much dignity as he could muster.

"You're making me a birthday present?" Remus's face lit up. "What is it?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you. And that would be a pity, 'cause it's really cool and you're going to love it."

"I will," Remus agreed, pulling himself to his feet and walking gingerly towards the bathroom.

"How do you know? I haven't given it to you yet."

"I always like your presents," Remus told him, his hand drifting up to the pendent that still hung around his neck. He stepped into the bathroom to change, shutting the door behind him.

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It was not as easy as Sirius had first anticipated; hiding his knowledge of Remus's feelings for him. Now that he knew they were there, he found himself looking for signs of them all the time, and - in spite of Remus's good acting skills – he found that he saw them more and more clearly as the days passed.

He noticed the way the Remus became quieter and withdrew into himself whenever Rosemary or any of Sirius's other female admirers were around. He noticed how Remus instinctively turned to him for advice or reassurance over anyone else – including James and Peter. He didn't miss the way that every positive comment or touch that he directed towards Remus caused the werewolf's angular, often pain-drawn features to light up from the inside – those wide amber eyes almost glowing with happiness.

Sirius felt a little alone and lost. He wasn't sure how he should feel or react. He wished more than anything that he could tell James so that he had someone to talk to or advise him. He didn't dare to, though. Homosexuality was definitely a taboo subject in the wizarding world – particularly in pure-blood families where it was of vital importance to maintain the magical line through the generations. He was not entirely sure what James's views were on the matter, but he refused to compromise Remus's friendships for the sake of his own peace of mind.

The solution came to him one evening when he glanced down the dinner table and spotted a flash of red hair as Lily Evans left the hall with Alice Richards – Frank Longbottom's new girlfriend.

_Lily _knew. She definitely knew. If Sirius hadn't been sure from the conversation she had had with Remus at the beginning of term, their exchange in the hospital wing after the last full moon confirmed it.

"Lads, I'll see you later," he said, standing.

"Where are you going?" Remus asked, his gaze flickering to Rosemary at the Hufflepuff table. "I thought we were all going to play exploding snap later."

"I'll be back later," Sirius assured him. "Just got to get something." He turned and hurried towards the main doors before they could ask more questions. He caught a glimpse of Lily's bright hair disappearing round the corridor that lead to the library. He hurried after her.

"Evans! Hey, Evans!"

She stopped and turned, rolling her eyes as she spotted him hurrying towards her.

"I need to talk to you," Sirius gasped, coming to a stop in front of her. "Bugger off, Richards," he added to Alice.

Lily scowled. "You have no right to talk to my friends like that! I have no desire to talk to you. Bugger off yourself."

"Sorry," Sirius said, making his eyes pleading. "I didn't mean it like that. Please, I need to talk to you. It's about Remus."

Lily paused and he saw the conflict in her expression. "He looked okay at dinner. He's not ill again is he?" She began to look worried.

"No, it's not that. It's something else."

Lily looked undecided for a few moments before she nodded to Alice. "I'll meet you up in the common room. This had better be good, Black."

Alice reluctantly left, shooting suspicious glances over her shoulder at the two of them.

"Well?" Lily asked, crossing her arms and looking impatient. "What is it?"

"It's about Remus."

"Yes, you've said that already. Hurry up."

_I have no idea what James sees in her – the prissy little witch, _Sirius thought darkly. "Can we go to the library quickly? I don't want people listening in."

"You're not coming on to me are you?" she asked suspiciously. "Because there's no way in the world I'm going to go out with a rude, arrogant brat like you."

"No!" Sirius said. "I would never do that to James. Plus I don't fancy you in the slightest. I don't go for stuck-up and snappish."

Lily scowled. "One more comment like that and I'm leaving. And I'd never go out with Potter. Even if he was the last man left on Earth."

"Fine. Library?" Sirius stood back and gestured with mocking politeness into the Library, while mentally making a note to tell James that Lily had referred to him as a 'man'.

Lily followed him reluctantly to an empty desk. "Fine. What is it?"

"I …um… I know Moo – Remus's secret," he blurted out.

"I know perfectly well about the ridiculous nickname you've given him," she said. "And if this is another plot to get me to tell you what his secret is, I'm not going to fall for it."

Sirius frowned. "Weren't you listening? I said I _know._"

"Fine; what is it?"

Flushing darkly, Sirius whispered, "I think he fancies me."

Lily froze, her mouth half open. If Sirius had any lingering doubts, they disappeared in that moment. Eventually she gave her head a visible shake and said, "No, he doesn't."

"Never go on stage, Evans," Sirius told her dryly. "Your acting skills leave a lot to be desired. You should take lessons from Moony. If you're worried I'm going to hurt him or tell anyone, you don't need to. I've known for weeks. I just needed some advice, and you were the only person I knew who also knew. Plus you're a girl."

"Well observed," Lily snapped. Then she sighed. "That's not what I meant anyway. Much as I dislike you, I know you wouldn't hurt Remus. Even over something like this. Maybe that's what he sees in you. Merlin only knows, you have no other redeeming features."

"What did you mean, then?" Sirius demanded.

"I meant what I said – he doesn't fancy you, Black. He's in love with you."

It was Sirius turn to freeze now. "What?"

"He's in love with you. It's not some schoolboy crush like you have on your girlfriends or Potter has on me. It's proper all-out love. You of all people should know that when Remus does something, he never does it by halves. When he falls, he falls hard."

Sirius groaned and let his head fall against the table. "I don't know what to _do!_" he complained. "Can't you tell me what to do? You're a girl – how do I make him fall out of love with me?"

Lily pursed her lips and looked at him speculatively. "You want him of fall out of love with you?"

"Of course I do!" Sirius said impatiently. "I don't want the poor guy to be miserable and pining for the rest of his life! What else did you think I wanted?"

"I don't know," Lily said. "Maybe advice on how to tell him that you love him to bits and pieces as well, and want to be with him forever and have all his babies – or whatever the gay equivalent is. What would that be? Buying a farm together? Raising chickens? Starting a band? Heavens knows."

"What the hell are you talking about, you stupid woman?" Sirius stared at her in horror. "_I'm _not gay! What on the whole of this damn earth made you think that?"

"Maybe I was mistaken," Lily said, not looking offended in the least. In fact, she looked a little amused. "It's a faint possibility."

"Damn right, you are," Sirius said, feeling, for some reason, as though he had just avoided being hit by an oncoming train. "Now help me come up with a plan."

"Okay," she said, sounding suspiciously agreeable. "What made you think he fancied you? Maybe if we start there, we can think of what you can do to … you know… reverse the process."

"Fine." Sirius sat back, stretching his mind. "Well, there was this song. A Muggle love song. And he said some words of it to me."

"That's it? And since when do you listen to Muggle music?"

"No, that's not it! That just made me realise that all the other things now made sense."

"What other things?"

Sirius scowled at her. "You know – the things he does. Like how he never wants me to spend time with my girlfriends, but he doesn't care about James's. When Rosemary's around, he always looks like he wishes he were somewhere else. And he always goes to me for comfort – you know – when he's sad or …or ill. Even when he's not really in his right mind from being ill, he always wants me around. And he always wants to be with me, or know where I am if I'm somewhere else. And when I compliment him, or say something nice, or touch him – in a friendly way, you know – he just…" Sirius searched for the right word. "…lights up."

Lily sat back in her chair, looking satisfied. "You know what made me think you were in love with him also?"

"What?" Sirius rolled his eyes, wondering how long she would go on about her mistaken belief until she finally accepted she was wrong.

"It was because you never seem to want to spend time with your girlfriends. When you're with them, you always want to be somewhere else. Remember when Rebecca had a go at you in the common room? She said that Remus was the worst of the lot because you always had to know where he was and what he was doing and if he was working too hard. You would much rather be spending time with him than her."

Sirius felt vaguely sick in his stomach at her words. "Remus is ill," he defended himself. "He needs his friends to look after him."

"And," Lily continued, as though he hadn't spoken, "she said that if you were worried or upset or something, you always went to Remus for comfort and advice, not her. It made her mad, you know. She said that was supposed to be her job."

"Remus is clever! We all go to him to get advice and stuff!" The oncoming-train feeling had returned and Sirius felt his heart-rate pick up. What was wrong with him? What was wrong with her? Hot bubbling fear and anger was building beneath his diaphragm, threatening to explode out at any minute.

"And here you are now," Lily continued, seemingly oblivious to his emotions, "the heir to the Moste Ancient and Noble House of Black; a family that would put a person to death for smaller things that being gay – talking to a girl you don't even like in an effort to help out the boy who you don't love. And every time you say his name, or talk about how he needs you, your face just…" she left a dramatic pause, in the same place that Sirius had done as he scrambled for the right description, "…lights up."

Sirius stared at her, his mouth open, burning with anger and rage because how _dare _she, _how DARE she_ accuse him of such things? He felt sick and disorientated, and suddenly he just wanted to be far away from her and her… her… _LIES. _

"_Screw you!_" he screamed at her. "You know what? _SCREW YOU! _I don't have to listen to you! I came to you for help and if all you want to do is…is… tell _lies _about me, I'm going. So SCREW YOU!"

He stood up, flinging his chair back from the table with a clatter, stormed past the indignant Mandam Pince and out of the library.

He left so quickly, he didn't see Lily sit back in her chair with a satisfied expression on her face, or hear her mutter, "Remus, you owe me big time."

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	42. Sweeper or Sweepee?

**Disclaimer: all copyright goes to JK Rowling.**

**Warnings: Slashiness and angst...as usual**

**Another chapter for all my lovely readers who have been begging me to keep them coming. I'd just like to say a big thank you to all those who send me such kind anonymous reviews. I can't reply as I can to my other reviewers, but I'm grateful for every one. **

**As always, reviews are always welcome!**

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_Whose woods these are I think I know.  
His house is in the village, though;  
He will not see me stopping here  
To watch his woods fill up with snow._

_(Robert Frost - 'Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening'')_

**IMPORTANT NOTE: THIS IS THE SAME EVENT AS IN THE LAST CHAPTER, BUT FROM REMUS'S P.O.V. YOU _KNOW _WHAT HAPPENED IN THE CONVO BETWEEN SIRIUS AND LILY. YOU JUST READ IT :D. Sorry, there's been a bit of confusion about that, so I thought I would make sure everyone got it. :P**

**x **

**REMUS:**

Remus had been getting very strong flashbacks of first and second year over the past couple of weeks. No matter where he was, or what he was doing, he could feel Sirius's eyes on him – watching him - _staring_ at him, until Remus had to force himself not to flush or hunch under his gaze.

At first, Remus had been afraid that Sirius had discovered his secret; but Sirius's gaze wasn't revolted or angry; only very, very intense. Remus desperately struggled to hide any signs of his secret from his friend's watchful eyes. Sirius was brilliantly intelligent, and – especially when it came to Remus – frighteningly observant. He couldn't risk slipping up. Not even once.

Lily had noticed Sirius's new (or old and re-hashed) occupation as well. Two weeks after the staring had begun, she pulled Remus aside after their Ancient Runes lesson and raised her eyebrows at him.

"What?" Remus said defensively. "Is there anything else about myself you're feeling inclined to inform me about?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Men - Honestly! And you say girls are touchy." She put her hand on his arm to prevent him from walking away. "Black's been staring at you a lot."

"You think I haven't noticed?" Remus shook off her hand. "The silly git has had his eyes glued on me for two weeks. I'm about ready to claw out of my own skin."

"I'd have thought you'd like having him staring at you."

Remus scowled. "Why the hell would I _like _him staring at me?"

"Well…" Lily appeared to flounder for the first time, surprised by his question. "You know – if he's staring at you, maybe he…you know…" she lowered her voice, "…fancies you back."

Remus snorted. "Fat chance. He did this exact thing in first and second year - watching me and watching me until I slipped up and he guessed about my father."

"Yes, but…" Again the conversation appeared to be going in a direction Lily didn't understand. "Maybe if he stares at you enough he'll realise how cute and sexy you are and how much time he's been wasting on girls when he should have been sweeping you up in his manly arms and carrying you away into the sunset."

Groaning, Remus leaned back against the stone wall of the corridor and ran his fingers through his hair. "You are blinded by your idiotically romantic view on how real life works," he told Lily grimly, glancing round the corridor to make sure they were alone. "You think it's all flowers and roses and declarations of undying love. It's not. Real life is watching your mother die and not being able to do anything about it. Real life is having a father who hates you so much he can't bear to look at you without reaching for a poker to burn you. Real life is being ill all the time; _hurting _all the time and…and…loving people you shouldn't. And it's the sad damn truth that you can't always rely on people to _love you back_."

Lily pressed her lips together so hard they turned white and looked away. He suddenly felt a stab of sympathy for her. It wasn't her fault she didn't know. He couldn't blame her for having a nice life, full of prospects and love, when he would be left by the wayside while his friends went on ahead.

"I'm sorry." Remus reached out to put his hand on her shoulder and dipped his head to try and look into her eyes again. "I shouldn't have said that. The truth is you were forgetting a few key facts. One: I am neither cute, nor sexy. Two: Sirius Black is straight. And three: If anyone was doing the sweeping-off-his-feet it would be me because I am – of course – manly and tough and a lot stronger than I look." He winked and forced his face into a grin, hoping to cheer her up.

Lily gave him a wavering smile back and sniffed. "You're also forgetting some key facts," she said. "One: no matter how much you try to deny it, you are both cute and sexy. Two: you have no real proof Sirius Black is totally straight. And besides – even _I_ know he always makes exceptions for you. And three: In my lovely visual image of the sweeping-off-of-the-feet, you are definitely the sweepee."

Four Ravenclaw boys hurried down the corridor, pushed past them, and stampeded in the direction of the Great Hall fuelled by the urgency of adolescent hunger. Remus stuffed his hands in his pockets, deliberately pushed away from the wall and began to walk off in the same direction. Lily hurried to follow him.

"Believe what you like," he told her. "I know what I know."

"I'm going to help you," she said, her voice filled with characteristic stubbornness.

"Don't you _dare_," said Remus, with a sudden, horrifying vision of soppy Valentine's cards being sent to Sirius by Lily on his behalf. The very thought of it was mortifying.

"Give me _some _credit!" Lily had apparently guessed the line of his thoughts from the horrified expression on his face. "I _can _be sneaky, you know."

"I've not seen any evidence of it to date."

"_Hey, Moony!_" Remus glanced around and saw Sirius and James behind them, jogging to catch up. Lily gave an exasperated snort and hurried on ahead to join a group of Hufflepuff girls who were coming out of the Transfiguration corridor.

"Were you talking to Evans?" James asked eagerly.

"No. We just enjoy moving our mouths up and down while looking at each other in imitation of gold fishes. It's part of our Ancient Runes homework."

"Ouch." James said. "What crawled up your butt and died?"

Remus shot his friend a disgusted look. "That was a horrible analogy to use. Especially before lunch. And I was talking to Evans – you expected me to be in a good mood?"

James looked amazed. "You were talking to _Evans_, Rem. You should feel honoured and ecstatic."

"Hammered and apathetic, more like," Sirius said. "How're things going, Moony?"

"Fine," Remus said, fighting down the grin that threatened to slice his head in half, at the genuine care he could see in the other boy's eyes. He wondered if he had failed when Sirius studied his expression for a few seconds before, giving his head a little shake and grinning back.

"Nice one. Let's go to lunch, eh? If I do without food any longer, I swear I shall faint, and then you, Mr. Moony, would have to carry me to the Great Hall."

"Naturally," Remus agreed, rolling his eyes. S_weepee indeed. Huh! _

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"Where's he going?" Peter asked, staring after Sirius as he made his quick exit from the dinner table.

"He's following Evans!" James said, accusingly. "What does he want with her?"

Remus didn't answer, but he felt an ominous sinking feeling in his stomach. Had Lily set up a meeting with Sirius? What was she going to tell him? _Please let her keep her mouth shut, _he begged silently to whomever up there was willing to listen.

He followed James and Peter morosely to the common room, trying to block out James's indignant commentary about traitorous gits, who were probably, even now, coming onto their best friend's girl. Peter was making vaguely sympathetic noises while attempting to wipe tomato sauce off the front of his shirt with the aid of his robe's hem and excessive amounts of saliva.

Remus curled up on the hearth rug in front of the common room fire and ignored James's and Peter's attempts to get him to join in their game of exploding snap. His stomach felt tight and stretched, and he wished he hadn't eaten so much for dinner. His heart-rate wouldn't slow down to a normal rate either. What on earth would happen if Lily – with good intentions, but complete short-sightedness – told Sirius about his secret?

It seemed like hours before Sirius returned. Remus was still curled uncomfortably before the fire, watching the flames through slitted eyes. Suddenly, the portrait door was flung open with a crash and loud protests from the Fat Lady. Sirius stormed through and stopped when he caught sight of Remus who had hunched up defensively on the floor. The dark-haired boy's face screwed up into a grimace and he swung around and carried on up to the dorms without a word. As he passed, Remus caught the scent of Lily on his clothes.

Remus thought he was going to die. He honestly believed so. The sharp pain as his already-hammering heart twisted viciously in his chest could only mean he was having a heart attack; and his scrunched-up stomach scrunched up even more, until he was forced to launch himself to his feet and run in the direction of the nearest toilets – the first year boys' – and fling the door open, falling to his knees in front of one of the toilet bowls and violently vomiting up everything he had eaten for dinner. The retching wouldn't stop. Even when the muscles of his diaphragm screamed in pain and his throat burned with acid, they continued.

Tears streamed down his face, though he couldn't have said if they were from the effects of his extensive vomiting or the giant, tearing ache at the memory of Sirius's twisted expression as he looked at him.

_He knew. Oh God, Oh Merlin! He knew, he knew! Lily told him and he was utterly revolted. _

"Moony?" James's voice was very tentative and Remus felt a light touch on his back. The retches eased and Remus leaned his forehead against the cold porcelain of the toilet seat and panted in pain and misery. "Great Merlin, Remus. What happened? Do you need us to get Madame Pomfrey?"

Remus gave a slightly hysterical, sobbing laugh. Madame Pomfrey couldn't heal everything. He shook his head without lifting it.

"I don't get it," Peter said. "It's not even near full moon."

"Moony's allowed to get normal illnesses as well," James pointed out. He looked at Remus again. "I thought you looked a bit off after dinner. Do you want to go up to bed?"

Remus didn't. He didn't think he could ever face Sirius again. But he couldn't sit all night in the first-year boys' toilets.

James and Peter helped him stagger to his feet. He lapped thirstily from a tap, not caring how wolf-like he looked at that moment, then made his way up to the dormitory with James and Peter on either side, trying to avoid the questioning or sympathetic looks from the Gryffindors in the common room.

Sirius's bed-curtains were drawn when they entered the dorm.

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If Remus had any doubts about Sirius's knowledge of his secret, they disappeared over the next few days. Sirius avoided him at all costs, and when he did talk to him, he was short and distant. Remus felt as though his whole world was beginning to burst at the seams like an overstuffed pillow. Every harsh look or cold word cut into him a little more deeply. If he thought he'd felt bad before, it was nothing to how he felt now.

What made it worse was that Sirius was also taking out his mood on the other Marauders. It was not as bad for them as it was for Remus, but he could see the hurt and confusion and James's and Peter's faces whenever Sirius snapped at them. He knew it was his fault and the guilt weighed on him like a physical burden.

He gave up speaking for the most part, as any sign of his presence seemed to antagonise Sirius further, and he spent most of his time holed up in the Library, hiding beneath the tables, and trying to nurse the remnants of his happy memories with the Marauders. He knew it was over for them now. Hadn't he said to Peter it was only a matter of time before they turned around one day and saw him for the monster he really was?

He was a fool for believing it would last longer.

He knew Madame Pomfrey was worried. He had a werewolf's fiery metabolism that required plenty of food, but he couldn't bring himself to eat, and even though only three days had passed, the weight was dropping from him like liquid. When he went to her to have his scar-potion applied, Madame Pomfrey had actually looked frightened as she demanded to know what was going on.

He hadn't been able to tell her, though, and she hadn't been able to cancel her conference at St. Mungo's the next day to keep him in for observation. Her instructions to ask one of his friends to help him apply the potion were even more laughable than they had been before.

It was late one evening on the fourth day of that dreadful week when James found him beneath the table in the Library, curled into a ball on the floor, half asleep, with Hamish resting against his stomach.

"Moony?"

He didn't move or open his eyes.

"Moony, please talk to me. Did you and Sirius have an argument? What's going on? I don't understand. Please tell me!"

Instead of sitting on a chair, James crawled under the table with him and sat with his back against Remus's. Remus couldn't prevent his thin body from leaning into the offered warmth. He wondered what James would think if he knew the truth about what Remus was. Would he sit so close then?

"I'm worried about you, Rem," James whispered. "I mean, I'm worried about Sirius as well, but I'm more worried about you. It's like back in first year when you didn't talk to anyone."

He waited for an answer, but none came.

"Don't do this to me!" James begged, and his newly deep voice broke under the strain of his emotions. "You know what will happen. You will die at the next moon if you keep this up. You know you will. Please don't die."

Remus stirred a little and sighed, stirring the soft fur on top of Hamish's head with his breath. "'The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep. And miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep.'[1]"

"What?" James turned and gripped his shoulder. "What does that mean, Moony?"

"It's something my mother used to say. I wish she was here right now."

"What's going on? Remus, please tell me what's going on?"

But Remus said no more, and James sat silently against him as he drifted off to sleep.

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[1] From the poem 'Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening' by Robert Frost. The words Remus quotes are often thought to be an allegory for someone longing for death.


	43. I Got You, I Won't Let Go

**Disclaimer: The Marauder's world belongs to JK Rowling, though considering what I've done to some of her characters, she might not want to claim them back…**

**Warning: Slash, bit of violence, angstiness, fluff…the usual, you know, but in greater quantities…**

**Well, here is the long awaited Chapter 43. I hope you all enjoy it. There is some new fanart for this story since last chapter from various artists. Links can be found on my profile. Hope you enjoy!**

**Moonsign x**

_Love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, _

_and not to twist them to fit our own image... _

_otherwise we love only the reflection of _

_ourselves we find in them._

_(Anonymous)_

**SIRIUS:**

"What the hell is the matter with you, mate?" James finally demanded, after a week of putting up with Sirius's stormy mood.

The two of them were tramping back to the changing room in the rain after a miserable, muddy Quidditch match that was eventually cancelled when the players could no longer even see the quaffle, let alone the snitch.

"I'm cold, miserable, soaking wet, and I have mud in places I didn't even know I had until they started chafing. What do you _think _it wrong with me?" Sirius snapped.

"I don't just mean now," James said. "I mean for the past week you've been snapping at everyone. And you've been especially mean to Moony, as well. He's retreated so far back into his shell, I think you've ruined all the progress we've made with him since first year. What did he do to upset you so much? I asked him but he was under the table in the library and he wouldn't answer me. Not with anything that made sense anyway. And I know Evans tried to talk to him too. He just runs away every time she comes near him."

Sirius felt a rush of guilt. He had been avoiding Remus since his discussion with Lily. Every time he was with the other boy, he heard Lily's mocking voice in his head: _"You just…light up."_

For the first time since he had first laid eyes on the young werewolf, Sirius could say that he had no idea how Remus was. He had been so involved in trying to squash down his own conflicting feelings, that he hadn't taken note of the effect it had on the Remus. He suddenly wondered what his cold words and avoidance were doing to him, and when he considered the matter, he could only think of one conclusion. Remus would be taking it incredibly hard. Merlin! He probably thought Sirius had discovered his secret and was disgusted with him.

Every one of Sirius's internal organs seemed to squeeze up and shrivel with a mixture of worry and guilt as he stopped to stare at James. "He wasn't talking sense? What did he say?"

"What do you care?"

"I didn't mean…I'm not angry with him. It was something else. I didn't mean to upset him. What's wrong with him? What did he say?"

"You're not _angry _with him?" James, who was usually so good-natured and slow to anger, seemed to swell furiously at Sirius's words. "You didn't even have a _fight?_ Does he even _know _why you're angry with him?"

Sirius shrank back, his eyes wide. "N-no. I didn't…"

"_NO_?" James shouted shrilly. There was a jarring flash of white pain, and Sirius staggered back, sitting hard in the mud. His jaw was hot and throbbing from James's clumsy uncoordinated punch that, nevertheless, had the full weight of his anger behind it. Sirius was frozen in shock, staring up at James. In all the years they had been friends, the other boy had never struck him.

James shook his wrist and winced a little in pain. He glared down at Sirius and gave him another small kick in the thigh. "He's going to _die_ and it'll be all _your_ fault!"

Sirius wanted to answer, but he was hyperventilating, his chest heaving and his heart racing as he stared up into James's furious hazel eyes.

James leant down until his nose was almost touching Sirius's. "Fix. It." He turned – storming away and into the Gryffindor changing rooms.

Slowly, Sirius rose to his feet. He glanced at the Gryffindor changing rooms, then turned and shakily made his way towards the Ravenclaw ones. He crept into the quiet showers and stripped out of his Quidditch robes, washing the mud from his body and hair as quickly as he could. His own clothes were still in the Gryffindor lockers, so he snagged a pair of old, black sports robes from the Ravenclaws' lost property cupboard that were a bit too small for him, and shrugged them, on before turning and sprinting back out again. The rain had ebbed a little, so he was only slightly damp by the time he reached the castle in the quickly dimming evening light.

He headed straight to the library and began peering under tables.

"He's not here," a sharp voice said and he swung round to see Madame Pince glowering at him. "And you're banned from the Library for your rude display with Miss Evans on Monday"

"Right. Sorry." Sirius turned and ran back out of the Library in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. He knocked over a couple of second years as he threw himself through the portrait hole, ignoring their indignant yells as he headed up the staircase to the boys' dorms.

He slowed down as he approached the Marauders' room, until it was finally at a creep that he entered. The room was completely empty, but he glanced at the bathroom door and saw that it was shut. A look under Remus's pillow indicated that his pyjamas were gone, so it had to be him in there.

Sirius went over and pressed his ear to the door. He could just make out the sound of the shower turning off and the shower curtain being pulled back.

He strained his ears and could hear muffled movement as Remus got dressed. It seemed to be taking a long time and Sirius frowned with worry. What was Remus doing? He had a sudden vision Remus's wand being carefully drawn up his slim arm, cutting deeply into his skin and through his veins. Would Remus do that if he was desperate enough?

There was a sudden crash from the other side of the door, along with what sounded like a mixture between a whimper and a growl. Without thinking, Sirius stood up and pointed his wand at the door. "_Alohamora!_"

The lock clicked and Sirius slowly pushed the door open.

Remus had his back to Sirius. He was leaning against the wall, tawny head buried in his arms and shoulders shaking. Remus was dressed only in a pair of faded boxers and Sirius, for the first time, was presented with the sight of his lean, naked, back and legs.

It suddenly became very clear why Remus always kept his body covered. His back was criss-crossed with flat lines of silvery scars that stood out cruelly from his pale skin. They ran right from his shoulders to the waistband of his boxers, then out again and down his thighs. They were burn scars, Sirius realised, from the silver poker that John Lupin had used to torture him. And this was what they looked like after almost three weeks of scar-reducing potion. Sirius's chest actually hurt as his heart seemed to writhe within him.

"Oh, Moony," he whispered, barely above a breath. But it was enough. The werewolf spun round, instinctively dropping into a defensive crouch, his fingers curled into claws in front of him and his lips skinned away from his teeth. Sirius couldn't help taking a step back as they stared at one another.

Remus's front was even worse than his back. This was where Moony could easily reach during the full moon to tear and rip and scratch. These scars were not delicate, silvery lines, but jagged and raised up from Remus's smooth skin. They laced his body and arms and some of them looked fiery and red, as though they were still healing. The largest took up nearly Remus's whole shoulder and spread down the right side of his chest. The original bite, Sirius realised.

Remus's whole body was tensed and ready to spring. Although he was almost painfully thin, his bones were wrapped in wiry layers of muscle and tendon that gave the impression of feral strength – rather like one would expect from a half-starved wild animal.

It only took Sirius a few seconds to notice these things. A few seconds was all he had, because as soon as Remus saw it was him standing in the doorway, he let out a yelp and scrabbled around for his bath towel which he pulled over himself to hide his body.

"_Get out!_" he screamed, his eyes flickering wildly, as though looking for an escape route.

"Moony, it's just me." Sirius's voice sounded choked and uncertain, even to his own ears.

"Please go," Remus said, sinking to the floor and bowing his head into his knees.

Sirius crept forward and crouched in front of him. "Remus?"

"You know, don't you?" Remus whispered, his voice muffled. "You know my s-secret now. Lily told you. It's okay. I kn-now why you've b-been avoiding m-m-me. It's only f-fair that you feel d-disgusted. But please – go now. I d-don't want you to s-s-see me like this."

Sirius's stomach seemed to drop into his feet and then soar up again to lodge in his throat. His eyes were fixed on the curled form in front of him with its tawny hair still damp and standing up in tufts. A wave of protectiveness washed over Sirius so strongly it actually made him feel dizzy. It coiled up in his chest and squeezed around his heart painfully before dropping and filling his whole body with vicious, tingling heat.

It was in that moment that Sirius realised the truth. He loved Remus. He loved absolutely _everything _about Remus. He loved his big, unsettling amber eyes and his soft tawny hair. He loved his cleverness and quick brain. He loved his shyness and his laughter. He loved every one of Remus's eccentricities: his addiction to chocolate, his bookishness, his desire to seek refuge under tables, his almost reverent regard for muggle songs. He loved wild Remus, sneaky Remus, gentle Remus, frightened Remus, funny Remus…and all the other hundreds there were.

He loved everything that Remus was – including his scars, his insecurities, and his unwavering iron will that kept him going through everything.

The realisation of it washed over him in a tidal wave of emotion that actually seemed to rock his body. What the hell had he been doing with those girls? _This _was why he felt nothing when he was with them.

"Why don't you want me to see you like this?" Sirius managed to whisper, reaching out with a shaking hand to touch the bent, tawny head. "I think you're brilliant."

Remus raised his head and stared at Sirius with a look of such bemusement and disbelief on his face that Sirius couldn't help a hysterical laugh from escaping his lips. "Evans was right!" He gasped, clutching at Remus's shoulder. "Damn that interfering, prissy, annoying, darling girl! She was right! I _don't _want to be with the girls. I want to be with _you_! I want to keep you for ever and ever and raise chickens and start a band, or whatever the hell it is we're supposed to do."

"Raise chickens…" Remus still looked rather faint.

"Don't listen to that bit!" Sirius said impatiently. "Didn't you hear the rest?"

"Yes," Remus whispered. "But that was the bit where I got lost."

"So you got the rest?"

"No, I got lost there as well. Wait a minute – Lily accused _you _of being gay, too? What the hell is going through her head? I don't understand. What…what…just _what?_"

Sirius rolled his eyes and reached out to pull the shocked werewolf against him and wrap his arms tightly around him. "I got you, babe," he murmured, directly into the Remus's soft hair. That chocolate-and-autumn-leaf smell filled his senses and he felt himself tingling all over. It was a new, wonderful, exhilarating feeling. "I got you, and I won't let go."

He felt Remus stiffen in his arms, then say in a very small voice; "I really am a complete failure at keeping secrets."

"Or I'm just a genius as working them out," Sirius suggested. "It helped that you actually picked out the tape with that song on it."

There was another short silence before Remus said, "Is this a prank?"

Sirius tightened his arms. "I promise on everything that has ever meant anything to me that this is not a prank. It's real, okay? I don't really know what on earth I'm doing, but that much is true."

Remus gave a little hiccough and shifted so his face was pressed against Sirius's neck. "I think you're b-brilliant, too."

"Well, obviously," Sirius agreed. "I _am _the great Sirius Black. What part of that is not brilliant?"

"I would say your immodesty, but I'm ashamed to say I like that, too."

Sirius gave a watery chuckle of his own and pressed his nose against Remus's hair to breathe in his heady smell again. "What was that crash before I came in?" he asked, once he felt Remus relax a little in his arms.

Remus sighed against Sirius's neck, causing a shiver to run through him. "I was trying to put scar-potion on my back. I couldn't reach properly."

"Well, yeah. Not unless you've become an amateur contortionist in the last twenty-four hours."

Remus hunched his shoulders. "Don't tease me."

Sirius drew back a little, pressing Remus's head away from him gently so he could look into his face. "I'm sorry you thought I was disgusted with you. I'm really not. Not ever. I've known how you felt about me for weeks. I never… I never would have been that mean deliberately."

"I wouldn't blame you."

"And that's what makes it worse!" Sirius said. He reached out to brush Remus's hair from his eyes. "You should have. I was a right wanker. You must learn a little meanness, Moony. Here now - let me help you put your potion on your back."

"No!" Remus shuffled back quickly, clutching his damp towel tighter to his body.

"Come on. Who else are you going to ask? James? Pete? Evans?"

"I'll do it myself."

Sirius raised his eyebrow and Remus blushed.

"I don't want you to see me like this," he said again, eyes pleading.

"I've seen it, babe." Sirius loved the way that Remus blushed even more furiously as the term of endearment. The flush spread right to his ears and down his neck, disappearing into towel he still had clutched round his neck. Sirius grinned. "I told you that blush was too cute for your own good. Look what you did – turned Sirius Black, the suave and debonair ladies' man, as gay as a blue banana."

"I d-d-d-d…" Remus gave up and ducked his head, still looking bright red.

Sirius took the opportunity to glance around for the scar potion. The bottle was lying on the floor beside the shower. "It's a good thing it's in an unbreakable bottle," he said, crawling over to pick it up. "Now take your towel off and turn around."

"No! I won't."

Sirius shuffled back to look into Remus's defiant eyes. "It you don't, the scars will go back to looking how they were."

Remus's face screwed up with conflict. "But I'm ugly," he said eventually, his voice barely above a whisper.

"No, you're not," Sirius answered, his voice equally soft. "I told you. You're amazing."

Remus's half turned his head away and closed his eyes.

"You are, Moony." From this close, Sirius could see the way Remus's dark lashes brushed against his cheeks and his tawny eyebrows arched smoothly over them. He could see the rosy remnants of the blush sweeping over Remus's angular cheekbones and the way his teeth bit into his lower lip in frustration. Sirius thought his ribs might crack, his heart was beating so hard. "Can I kiss you?" The question was out before he even had time to consider it and Remus's eyes flew open in amazement.

"What did you say?"

It was Sirius's turn to blush now, but he stubbornly repeated; "Can I kiss you?"

Remus's mouth opened, then quirked into a half-smile. "You want to kiss me?"

"Yes," Sirius said, his voice cracking with embarrassment. "But I won't if you don't want me to."

"Is this a fine example of suave and debonair Sirius Black?" Remus asked teasingly.

"Oh, forget it!" Sirius moved to pull away, but a slim hand snaked up out of Remus's towel-cocoon to catch the side of his face and turn him back. He just had time to catch his breath before Remus pressed their mouths together.

The kiss was clumsy and shy and damp, but Sirius suddenly realised exactly why Rebecca and Rosemary had always wanted to make out so often. Heat seemed to be rushing over him in waves and he was intensely aware of every place that their bodies touched. Tingles seemed to run from those areas and all over his body, raising goosebumps and making him tremble. Remus's mouth was sweet and wet and Sirius just wanted to keep kissing him forever.

Eventually, when air became an issue, they pulled apart and stared at one another in rather embarrassed wonder. Remus's mouth was a little swollen and rosy and his eyes looked rather dazed. "Is it always like that?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

"It never has been for me before," Sirius admitted. "I always thought it was a bit weird before, you know? That was just…"

Remus's lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Am I a good kisser then?"

"You'll need lots more practice," Sirius declared, putting his nose in the air. "With a good tutor."

"Damn! So I've got to go and ask James to snog me then?"

"Remus!" Sirius was shocked and Remus threw back his head and laughed at his expression.

"I'm just kidding you idiot. I got you, I won't let go, remember?"

"I can't believe you just said that. Take your towel off so we can get this potion on before the other two come up. I think they're giving us time to make up." Sirius tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. "Or make out in this case." Before Remus had time to react, Sirius shifted round behind him and whipped the towel away from his slackened fingers.

"Sirius! Give that back!" Remus made a grab for it and almost fell over. Sirius reached out to steady him, hand closing loosely over the werewolf's narrow shoulders. His right fingers brushed against the original bite scar, and he noticed how the flesh there felt raised and slightly harder than normal skin.

Remus let out a shocked little yelp and shrank away from his hand.

"Does it hurt?" Sirius asked in alarm, moving his hand. Remus's head was bent and Sirius, who was crouched behind him, could see the ripples of tension on his back.

"Only w-when the potion is on," Remus said, his voice tired and resigned. "It's designed to try and break down scar tissue. It doesn't work so well on injuries caused by a werewolf's teeth." He shifted away. "Sirius, you don't have to do this. You don't have to touch my scars. I know they're gross."

"They're not," Sirius said stubbornly. "They're just another part of you. They show how brave you are and how much you've been through."

"They might show that," Remus agreed, "but that doesn't mean they're not gross."

"I don't think they are." Sirius reached out to lightly brush one of the burn scars on Remus's back and the shoulders in front of him hunched defensively. The burn scar felt different to the bite one. It felt shiny and very, very smooth – almost stretched. "I like your scars. They're very cool and animally."

"Oh, and me being 'animally' is a good thing?"

"Well, it turns _me_ on."

"Sirius!" Remus shifted away from his hand again. "Don't say things like that!"

"Why?"

"It's highly disturbing and I don't want to hear it."

Sirius laughed. "You've got to stop blushing like that or I'll be fighting the girls for you." He picked up the bottle of potion and opened it. Poring a clar dollop onto his hand, he smeared it carefully over one of Remus's scars. Immediately the scar grew hot and inflamed and he saw Remus tense in pain.

"I'm sorry!" Sirius jerked his hand back. "What's happening? It looks _worse_."

"It's supposed to look like that," Remus said, his voice calm. "I told you – the potion breaks down scar-tissue. That hurts, but it makes the scars better."

"Why don't you just leave them? That just looks horrible and painful."

"I don't want to be a scarred monster for the rest of my life, Sirius. No more than I have to be."

Sirius sighed as he looked over the other boy's body. He couldn't blame Remus for his insecurities. Sirius thought Remus was gorgeous in a starved, feral kind of way, but he couldn't deny that the scars looked vicious and painful against his would-be smooth, pale skin. If Remus wanted to be rid of them, Sirius would help him in any way he could.

"Please finish this," Remus begged. "I'd rather not drag it out, if that's okay."

Wordlessly, Sirius began applying the potion to Remus's back as quickly as he could. The scars flamed red and by the time he had finished, Remus was shaking in pain. Sirius now realised why Remus always needed help back from the hospital wing after Madame Pomfrey applied the potion.

"Have you done the front?" He asked, smoothing a gentle hand over the last scar.

"I did that before you came in. It was only my back I couldn't reach."

"Let me help you into your pyjamas," Sirius said, standing up and helping Remus to his feet.

Sirius held up the pyjama bottoms and Remus clutched his shoulders for support as he stepped into them. Then Sirius helped post his arms into the sleeves of his top and buttoned it when Remus's hands proved to be shaking too much to do the task himself.

Remus gave a short laugh as he leaned against Sirius tiredly. "Madame Pomfrey does that with a spell. One flick of her wand and I'm dressed. She wouldn't tell me the spell though, because apparently it can be reversed to take someone's clothes off and she said teaching it to a Marauder is asking for full-scale, involuntary nudity of all Slytherins in an overblown end of term prank."

"She has a point," Sirius said. "Though a houseful of embarrassed, naked Slytherins wouldn't be worth the psychological scars I don't think. Can you imagine it - naked Snivellus!"

There was a knock at the dormitory door. "You guys kissed and made up yet?" James's impatient voice demanded from outside.

Sirius sniggered and even Remus managed a wan smile through his pain.

"I don't think we should tell them about…you know… us," Sirius whispered. "I'm not sure how they'll take it and I'm not ready to lose all my friends."

"I know," Remus answered. "Nor am I."

"Hey!" James yelled, hammering louder on the door. "Can you hear me?"

"You can come in!" Sirius yelled back, helping Remus back to his bed and depositing a quick kiss on the end of his nose that made him blush again.

The door opened and James and Peter came in, looking apprehensively towards the two of them. They looked relieved when they saw Remus and Sirius sitting side-by-side on the bed.

"You didn't even hurt him," James said to Remus, looking a little disappointed. "I'm glad you didn't kill him, but you could have at least beaten him up a bit. He deserved it."

"Don't worry," Remus said, squirming back on his bed and climbing gingerly under the covers. "I will have my wicked way with him as soon as the scar potion has worn off."

Sirius choked. "Moony!"

James grinned, completely oblivious to the double meaning of Remus's words. "That's my little werewolf. Give him a bruise for me."


	44. Flying Mutt Hits The Bed

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I haven't miraculously morphed into JK Rowling since the last chapter, so the world of Harry Potter and the Marauders is still not mine…**

"**Finally!" I hear you all saying. Sorry it's taken longer than usual to update. I hope the chapter's worth it. As usual, a massive thanks to my lovely beta Hydraspit, and a plea for reviews smiles winningly and bats her eyelashes. **

**Enjoy:D**

_Perhaps love is like a resting place_  
_A shelter from the storm_  
_It exists to _  
_give you comfort_  
_It is there to keep you warm_  
_And in those times of _  
_trouble_  
_When you are most alone_  
_The memory of love will bring you home_

_('Perhaps Love' - John Denver)_

**REMUS:**

Remus did not know it was possible to be as happy as he was when he lay in bed and thought about the fact that Sirius liked him. More than liked him. The evening kept replaying itself in short, vivid snippets. Sirius holding him as he said ,"I _do_ want to keep you forever!" Sirius pressing his face against Remus's hair. Sirius murmuring, "I got you, babe." Sirius smoothing his hands gently over Remus's terrible, disfiguring scars in a way that was so tender that Remus _knew _he really didn't feel any revulsion. Sirius kissing him…

Remus rolled over and pressed his face into his pillow, grinning widely to himself. He had always thought rather scornfully of authors who described kissing as electricity, but that was really what it felt like. Static electricity running up and down his body, raising goose bumps on his arms and triggering his heart so it hammered so hard against his ribcage that he thought he might be having a heart attack. But in a really, really good way.

And at the same time it had been warm and comforting and somehow _right_. The Sirius in Remus's secret, guilty fantasies had been as suave and debonair as Sirius had mockingly described himself; sweeping Remus off his feet and kissing him with practiced skill. However, the real, live Sirius who had blurted out 'can I kiss you?' and flushed in embarrassment was the one that Remus loved.

"_You want to kiss me?"_

"_Yes, but I won't if you don't want me to."_

"Rem?" Peter's voice emerged from the darkness of the bed beside him. "Are you okay?"

Remus rolled over onto his back again. "Of course. Why?"

"You're giggling madly into your pillow."

There was an amused snort from across the room. "Really?" Sirius's voice asked. "What _can _you be thinking about you naughty werewolf?"

"Sirius!"

"I can actually _hear _you blushing, Moony," James said, sounding delighted. "Just who _were_ you thinking about?"

"I'm not talking to any of you! Good night!"

"Remus fancies someone," James crowed. "Our little Moony fancies someone! Who is it? Can we set you up?"

"I'm not setting him up with anyone," Sirius said quickly.

"Aw! Come on, Sirius!"

"No, I'm not going to help you embarrass him."

"All right, fine. You can set me up with Evans instead."

"It's not going to work," Remus said, glad to be latching onto a new subject. "The girl just doesn't like you."

There was a brief silence, then, "Oh Merlin! _That's_ who you fancy, isn't it!" James sounded horrified. "What are we going to do? I can't go out with her if you want to as well! This is dreadful! Terrible!"

"James, calm down," Remus interrupted. "I promise - on my honour as a Marauder - that I don't fancy Lily."

"Really?"

"Yes, you fool," Sirius said. "He's been trying to get away from her all week. Where have you been?"

There was another short silence, then James said, "Oh no!"

"_Now_ what?" Sirius asked in a long suffering voice.

"She fancies _Remus_, doesn't she? That's what she was asking you! And you didn't want to tell me to protect my feelings."

"What?" Both Sirius's and Remus's voices were incredulous.

"_No, _James," Remus said patiently. "I can pretty much guarantee that Lily does not fancy me."

"How do you know?"

"Because she knows who I _do _fancy, okay?"

"What? Who? Why does she know and I don't?"

"I didn't tell her, you idiot, she guessed. Why do you think I've been avoiding her? She keeps harping on about it. And before you ask, I'm not telling you lot either. I like to keep at least _some _things secret."

"She _is_ disgustingly good at guessing things about people," Sirius said moodily. "The worse thing is that she's usually right. I bet she's a gloater too."

"What?" James shoved aside his curtains and cast _lumos_. Remus, who had neglected to shut his curtains in his exulted state earlier, blinked in the sudden light. "What did she guess about you, Sirius?" James demanded. "What's going on here? Why do I get the feeling I'm missing something?"

"Yeah," Peter said. "I'm really confused."

"Yeah," Remus said. "What's a gloater?"

"Someone who gloats when they're right all the time," Sirius elaborated.

"Well, I should be a gloater seeing as I'm right all the time as well," Remus said.

"Can we get back to the subject at hand?" James demanded. "Why has Lily been talking to all of you?"

"Not me," Peter said.

"She didn't really want to talk to me," Sirius said. "I sort of trapped her in the library and made her."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted her help with Remus's secret," Sirius explained. "And she wouldn't give it to me. Instead she got all insightful and started dissecting my feelings and stuff. It was horrible. I really don't think you're on to a winner with that one, mate. Maybe you should choose someone more accessible and less gloaty and right all the time. My Dad says you should never marry a woman who is right all the time."

"And you never take his advice, do you?" Remus questioned, trying to keep the pathetic tone out of his voice.

"Nope." Sirius pulled open his curtain and Remus saw him wink at him in the light of James's wand. "Never have, never will. But it's different with Evans. She's just scary."

"No, she's amazing," James said. "Stop being mean about her."

"You're only saying that because you're whipped," Sirius said.

"One of these days, you'll be whipped too, and then you'll know what it's like."

"I'll be whipped for someone who is whipped for me," Sirius declared.

"Lads," Peter interrupted. "Do we have to talk about this now? We have Potions first thing tomorrow so I need sleep."

The rest of them subsided into silence and James's wand light went out. Just before it flickered off, though, Remus glanced up in time to catch Sirius blowing a flamboyant kiss at him while James's back was turned.

There was a wide grin on Remus's face as he lay back and tried to go to sleep again.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It was not until he and Sirius wished to have a bit of time together alone that Remus realised how inseparable the Marauders were. It was almost unbearable to be with Sirius so much of the day and not dare to touch him or even look at him as much as he wanted to.

The day after the incident in the bathroom, Sirius dumped Rosemary with an expression of great relief before running up to where Remus was waiting, tugging him round the corner and into a secret passage where he proceeded to kiss him so soundly that Remus feared he would never be able to walk again.

Remus couldn't help feeling a little sorry for Rosemary when he saw her crying into her friend's shoulder in the Transfiguration corridor a little later. He knew what she had lost and he was determined that he would not do the same.

"I'm glad you two made up," James said, three blissful days later, when he and Remus were the first to the dinner table. "It was dreadful when you two weren't talking to each other."

"Believe me, I know," Remus said, tucking into his casserole with great gusto. "Remind me never to do it again."

"What did you argue about?"

Remus paused and glanced at James. "We didn't argue."

"Well, why were you mad at each other?"

Remus sighed. "I wasn't mad at him. I wasn't even entirely sure why he was angry."

"Did he tell you?" James asked, frowning.

Remus turned back to his food and mixed it with his fork. "It was about … his girls." It was _almost _the truth.

James sat back and ran a hand through his messy hair. "Because Moony didn't like them?"

Remus shrugged. "It's over now, anyway."

"Moony." James's voice grew serious and he put a hand on Remus's arm to get his attention. "You can't keep making him dump them. One of these days he will want to… you know… get married and have a family or something, and he won't be able to if he never goes out with anyone."

"I didn't _ask _him to!" Remus said defensively. "In fact, I told him not to. I said he should stay with them because they make him happy. But he said they don't. I didn't make him do _anything. _He did it on his own."

"But he _knew _you didn't like them."

"Who said I didn't like them?"

James just looked at him and Remus blushed.

"Look," James said, turning back to his own dinner. "I'm just trying to look out for the two of you. I don't think you can just ignore stuff like this when it comes up. It's one of those things that will bite you later if you don't do something about it now."

"We're not ignoring it, Prongs."

"Well, it seems like you are to me. Sirius dumped Rosemary. That made you happy. End of story. It's not exactly a long term solution. What if he really, really liked her?"

"If Evans asked you out, would you dump her if we told you to?" Remus demanded, feeling the first stirrings of annoyance rising.

"Well…no," James admitted. "But I would feel guilty. And Padfoot is…you know… different with you. You and him have a different sort of friendship than the rest of us. If he really liked her, he would still dump her if you asked him to."

"Well then he wouldn't like her _enough._" Remus turned to glare at James in frustration. "If he likes me more than her, then he can't really like her. Don't you see? What you're saying doesn't add up!"

James groaned and ran his hand through his hair again. "I'm only trying to _help_. There's no need to snap at me!"

"Does he _seem _unhappy about having dumped her?" Remus demanded. "Does he?"

"Well…" James thought about it, then sighed. "No."

"How does he seem?"

"He seems really happy," James said reluctantly. "Happier than he was when he was going out with her."

"Well then maybe," Remus said, in a gentler tone, "he didn't want to be going out with her, but felt that he should. Maybe he's glad of an excuse to stop."

"But…" James's face screwed up with conflict. "How could he not want to go out with girls?"

"We all have our reasons for doing things," Remus said.

"There are too many secrets among the Marauders," James said. "We never used to have secrets."

"Yes we did," Remus corrected him. "There have always been secrets. It's what our friendship is built on, isn't it? Secrets and secrets and secrets. Generally mine, actually."

"Secrets and secrets and secrets," James said, looking a little deflated. "Mini-you said that as well."

"I'll tell you them all one day, Prongs. Just not now. Look there's Sirius and Pete."

"Hey guys," Sirius said, as he and Peter slid into the seats opposite them. "Are you okay? You look a bit pale, Moony."

Remus felt Sirius's foot nudge his calf comfortingly and smiled.

"Fine," he said. "Talking about secrets and girls."

"Girls, eh?" Sirius's eyebrows rose. "Who's caught your eye?"

Remus winked at him. "You know perfectly well that that is a secret."

Sirius grinned, his foot sliding up to press against the sensitive spot behind Remus's knee. "Want me to set you up?"

Remus felt his breath catch in his throat a little. He jumped in surprise when there was a burst of laughter from a few seats down the table. Both he and Sirius swung round to where Lily was watching them with a look of delight on her face.

"You owe me one, Remus Lupin!" she called.

Remus scowled at her. "I don't owe you anything you interfering little witch!"

She just laughed again and turned back to her friends.

"What was she talking about?" James demanded.

"Who knows?" Remus said. "Girls - Honestly!"

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Wake up, birthday boy!"

Remus jumped awake as something large and heavy landed on his bed and almost catapulted him out of it.

"…mm…ger'off, P'dfoot…" he moaned, putting his head under the covers and curling into a defensive ball.

"But it's your _birthday_!" Sirius wriggled under the covers as well and peered at him. "Don't you want presents?"

"I _want _to sleep in," Remus said, waking up properly so he could glare half-heartedly at Sirius.

"Come on Moony!"

"Go away." Remus rolled over so his back was facing Sirius.

"But I want to give you your birthday present! I've waited ages!"

A warm hand slipped under his pyjama top and rested on his waist, the fingers gently following the path of one of his scars.

"Sirius!" Remus squirmed away from the hand as his body reacted in a way that he definitely didn't want James or Peter knowing about. Instead of stopping, Sirius shifted closer and began tickling him, causing Remus to yelp and wriggle even more.

"S-s-stop!" he gasped.

"Will you wake up?"

"No!"

Remus shifted round and grabbed Sirius's hands, pressing him away, causing him to let out an un-manly squeak of surprise and fall off the bed, dragging Remus and the covers with him. Remus found himself lying directly on top of Sirius, staring into a pair of mischievous grey eyes. He was also suddenly aware of that fact that Sirius was just as aroused as he was. His breath caught in his throat and lodged there. Sirius slowly raised one thigh directly up between Remus's legs and grinned when Remus let out an unintentional whimper.

"Guess what I'm thinking about right now, babe," Sirius whispered into Remus's ear, his voice barely above a breath. Remus felt a hot, fizzy tremor run through his whole body and an answering one from Sirius.

"Guys? What on earth are you doing?"

Remus had never been so glad of his copious amounts of bedclothes in all his life. Thankfully, the sight of Peter's chubby face staring bemusedly down at them from his bed also took care of another problem rather swiftly. There was nothing that broke an arousing moment as much as Peter's earnestly worried expression – one that greatly resembled anyone else's constipated expression.

"I hate to break it to you, but the position you're in right now looks kind of dodgy," James added, from where he was sitting up in his own bed.

Remus hurriedly rolled off Sirius and sat up. "Blame Sirius," he said. "I was innocently sleeping and the next thing I know – _bam!_ – flying mutt hits the bed."

"Hey!" Sirius complained. "Watch who you call a mutt."

"So, Padfoot," James said, shooting a teasing grin at his partner in crime. "The girls weren't enough for you. You had to come on to our Moony instead."

"Oh yes," Sirius said gravely. "You know how I go for the wild, sexy ones. Moony and I are having a secret, sordid affair behind your backs involving plenty of snogging, declarations of our undying devotion and back massages."

"Sirius!" Peter made a face. "It's too early in the morning for your warped sense of humour. Besides, I think poor Moony is going to kill himself if you carry on."

Remus raised his hand to his flaming cheeks and glared at Sirius.

"Poor Remus," James said. "And it's his birthday as well. Ignore Padfoot, mate. The Black family insanity was just making a brief appearance."

Remus felt a touch of indignation at that comment. "Are you saying I'm not wildly sexy?" he demanded, scowling at James.

"Don't listen to him," Sirius said consolingly. "Those tartan pyjamas you're wearing just exude wild sexiness."

Remus glanced down. "Ah…" he glanced up at James. "You may have a point."

"'Course I do," James said. "Even Sirius couldn't pull off 'sexy' in tartan pyjamas."

"I could pull off 'sexy' in tweed dungarees and carpet slippers," Sirius protested. "Don't you think, Moony?"

"I'm not answering that one," Remus said. "On grounds of insanity."

"Yours or his, James asked with interest."

"Take your pick."

"Since we're all awake now," Peter interrupted. "You can open your presents." He pointed to a small pile of wrapped parcels on Remus's trunk that hadn't been there the night before.

"Where did all those come from?" Remus asked in bemusement. "You guys didn't spend that much on me, did you? You know it makes me uncomfortable."

"We know that, Moony," James assured him. "They're not all from us."

"What?" Remus went over and began sorting through his presents, reading the labels. He wasn't very surprised to find that the largest, most elaborately wrapped one was from Sirius. Others were from James, Peter, the Anders, and – to Remus's surprise – Lily and Frank Longbottom.

"But I never even really talk to Frank outside lessons," he said, picking up the wrapped box and giving it an experimental shake. His sensitive nose picked up the scent of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

James shrugged. "But you are nice to him in lessons. And he gets worried about you when you're off being 'ill'. Always asks after you."

"And there's one from Lily."

"Evans?" James peered over his shoulder. "What it is with her being interested in you?"

"I don't know," Remus said. "It's not like I encourage her or anything."

"Open it," James ordered.

Remus gingerly pulled off the wrapping paper and a small silver box dropped into his lap. He opened it and peered inside. There were two chains, each with a silvery pendent (not real silver, Remus was relieved to note) in the shape of half a willow tree, that fit together like two jigsaw pieces. On a small card stuck to the top of the box, Lily had scrawled a note.

_Dear Remus,_

_This is a present for you and your special someone. When you put the two pendants together, they just…light up. I know you're mad at me for interfering, but I can't help it when it's that sweet. When I saw these, I couldn't resist. _

_Have a happy birthday, and come and talk to me about things if you need a friendly ear. _

_Love,_

_Lily _

Sirius let out a snort as he read the note over Remus shoulder. "Interfering little busybody," he muttered. "You should send them back, Moony."

"She's just trying to be nice," James said. "You know girls. They always want to set you up if they find out you fancy someone. Why don't you just let her set you up with your mystery girl, Moony? She's obviously dying to."

Remus closed the box carefully and put it aside. "It's more complicated that that. You know that, James."

"You do get an awful lot of jewellery for presents," Peter said.

"Only two things," said Remus defensively, his hand moving up to touch the pendent he had received from Sirius such a long time ago.

"That's still two more than the rest of us."

"Leave him alone, Wormtail," James said. "It's not like he asks for it."

"Sorry, Moony," Peter said meekly. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I know, Pete," Remus sighed. He opened Frank's present next, then the Anders's. Neil and Angela had sent him a book on recent advances in spells for healing difficult wounds and a giant box of Angela's famous chocolate brownies.

"Mine now," Peter said eagerly, and Remus obediently pulled the paper off his present. Two slabs of Honeyduke's finest and a rolled up muggle poster fell into his lap. Remus carefully unrolled it. It showed an aerial view of a pine forest that swept over the peaks of two mountains and plunged into the deep valley between them through which a silver river ran. The sun hung low in the sky overhead, just on the point of setting. Remus thought it was one of the most beautiful pictures he'd ever seen.

"Wow, Wormtail," he breathed. "That's really…just wow."

Peter shrugged, looking pleased. "I saw it and I thought of you. You said you needed posters for your room at home and this one was just really peaceful."

"I used to collect potions ingredients with my mother in a pine forest like this," Remus said, staring at the picture as he remembered. "It's nice to remember the good times like that."

"Hurry up, Moony," James said impatiently. "You can look at them all after they're opened."

Remus smiled and put the poster aside, reaching for James's present and pulling off the paper. More chocolate and a very ragged-looking book fell out.

"It's second-hand," James said apologetically. "I couldn't find a better copy. It's been out of print for decades. The ministry weren't very impressed, because the spells could cause a bit of trouble if the wrong people got hold of them. It was no mean feat getting this copy, I can tell you. I had to pretend to be my father and order it by post."

"What is it?" Remus asked, picking it up suspiciously.

James grinned. "A book on magical cartography," he said.

"Carti-what?" asked Peter.

"Cartography. Maps and things," James elaborated. "There's spells in there to properly bring maps alive. The Ministry disapproved because they could quite easily be used to make maps that would aid criminals in breaking into places, or spying on people, or invading people's privacy. I reckon no one can complain about Moony having it. He's got a moral streak so wide he practically has to build a bridge over it."

Remus felt a huge grin begin to spread across his face. He opened the book reverently and flicked through the pages, his eyes alighting on spells that set his imagination on fire. "This is utterly _awesome_, Prongs," he murmured. "Do you know what I can _do _with spells like these? I can do moving staircases, hidden rooms, living things like trees… Hey! I can even do people, I think. This is just…wow…" He turned another page. "I might have to get you and Sirius to help with some of the more complicated charms and things," he added. "You two are better at that than me."

"Anything you need, Moony," Sirius said. "Now open mine."

Remus agreeably reached for Sirius's present and pulled it into his lap. He slowly unwrapped it. His mouth fell open when he saw it was the tape-player that Sirius had bought over the previous Christmas holiday.

"Sirius! I can't take this! It's yours."

"No it's not," Sirius said easily. "I bought it for you. I have no use for it, do I? Turn it on."

"It won't work here."

"Yes it will. I fixed it with charms. It took ages without you to help me look in books and things."

Remus raised his eyebrows. "You altered it to work in a magical environment? That's illegal, you know."

"Yup. Turn it on, Moony."

Remus suddenly realised how Sirius must have heard 'I Got You, Babe'. He didn't know why it hadn't occurred to him to wonder why Sirius had been listening to Muggle music before. He reached out and pressed the power button, then 'play'.

"…_I'm being followed by a moon shadow. Moon shadow, moon shadow. Leaping and a hopping on a moon shadow. Moon shadow, moon shadow. And if I ever loose my hand, lose my plough, loose my land. Yes, if I ever lose my hand, hey…I won't have to work no more…"_

"Oh, Padfoot…" Remus whispered, unable to think of anything else to say.

"It was nice to hear the whole thing," Sirius said, sitting down beside Remus on the bed, but not daring to take his hand. "I had only ever heard it in snippets before that when you sung it. It makes me think of –"

"Blood and moon shadows," Remus finished with him. "I know. Me too."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"We got the house elves to make you a cake," Peter told Remus later that evening as the four Marauders lounged around on 'their' seats in front of the common room fire.

"You did?" Remus's stomach growled in anticipation. "What kind?"

"What kind do you think, you chocoholic?" Sirius said teasingly. "Want to come down to the kitchens with me and fetch it?"

Remus knew he was the only one who understood the extra meaning in the invitation and felt a shiver of delight and excitement run through him. "Yes, please."

"It's your birthday," Peter protested. "You shouldn't have to go. I'll go if you like."

"No, that's okay, Wormtail. I want to go. I haven't been to the kitchens for ages, and I'd like to thank the elves."

"Thank the elves," James said, rolling his eyes. "That's such a Moony-comment."

"C'mon then," Sirius said, levering himself out of his armchair and reaching out to help Remus off his chosen place on the hearth rug in front of the fire.

They climbed out of the portrait hole and headed down towards the kitchens under James's invisibility cloak.

"The one behind the mirror?" Remus suggested quietly. "That's on the way."

"Eagar, are we?" Sirius said, winding his arm suggestively round Remus's waist.

"Aren't you?"

"Mmm," Sirius turned his head and pressed a light kiss to Remus's temple. "I've been resisting you all day. It's not easy when you're looking so cute. I thought I might kill Pete this morning when he interrupted our fun."

"I don't look cute!" Remus hissed indignantly. "I am a werewolf. We're not naturally snugly. _And _it's a good thing Pete _did_ say something or he and James might have got an eyeful of something that would have surprised them a lot."

"You _are_ cute," Sirius insisted. "A bit pointy, but very snugly. Most of the time anyway. Sometimes you're all wild and feral instead, and believe me, I'm not complaining either way."

"Pointy!"

"Yes. You are quite pointy, because you don't eat enough."

"I eat plenty. Especially chocolate which is fattening."

"Hmm…true," Sirius said. "You should sell werewolf-ism as a brilliant diet idea for chubby girls. You know some of them would actually think it was worth it?"

"Right up until their first full moon," Remus said grimly. "And it's lycanthropy."

"What is?"

"'Werewolf-ism'. Its official name is lycanthropy."

"Huh. Sounds like that science for studying people you were trying to explain to me the other day," Sirius said.

"No. That would be Anthropology."

"I'll take your word for it. You're the word-genius. Ooh, look! There it is. Come on."

Remus allowed himself to be pulled into the secret passage behind the mirror and muttered "_Lumos!_" while Sirius pulled the mirror shut behind them. His wand-light illuminated the passage that led to Hogsmeade, and Remus squinted down it as he leaned back against the wall.

"I heard there're signs of Death Eater activity again," he commented. "I read it in _The Prophet_. You reckon we should tell Dumbledore about this passage? If we can get to Hogsmeade from here, they could get here from Hogsmeade."

"No," Sirius said straight away. "It's _our _passage. Besides, if Dumbles is as all-knowing as he thinks he is, he'd know about it already."

"I don't think he thinks he's all-knowing," Remus said. "Just a-little-bit-more-than-us-knowing."

"Who cares?" Sirius moved closer to Remus and lifted a hand to trace down the side of his face. "We didn't come here to have philosophical discussions about Dumbledore. It's ruining the mood."

"What mood?" Remus asked a little breathlessly. It was odd feeling the contrast between the cold stone wall at his back and the hot, fizzing heat of Sirius pressed against his front.

"Are you going to talk all evening?" Sirius whispered against his neck. "Or shall we do something more fun?" He licked Remus's neck pointedly causing the werewolf to utter a happy whimper.

"Mmm… I love it when you do that, babe."

"Kiss me," Remus demanded, reaching up to guide Sirius's mouth to his own.

Sirius enthusiastically obeyed, one hand running down Remus's side as his other carded through his tawny hair. Remus wound both his arms around Sirius and pulled him as close as possible. These moments happened too irregularly for his demanding teenage hormones and he actually felt drunk on Sirius every time the other boy kissed him.

Remus wasn't sure how much time had passed before they heard footsteps approaching down the corridor on the other side of the mirror. He _did _know that he had never been this aroused before and that Sirius had been doing some very interesting things with his mouth and his hips that Remus did _not _want interrupted.

"Horace?" said Professor McGonagall's muffled voice from just outside the mirror.

The two Marauder's froze, staring into one another's eyes in alarm. Surely she couldn't know about the passage? Neither of them dared to move a muscle in case she heard them.

"Minerva?"

They both relaxed marginally as Professor Slughorn's voice replied to Professor McGonagall's and a new set of footsteps approached.

"I've been looking for you since dinner," Professor McGonagall said, a little tartly.

"I've been talking to the headmaster," said Professor Slughorn. "He's thinking about working to strengthen the wards on the school now that Death Eater activity is on the rise again. You can't be too careful."

"Well, I received a floo message for you from Brian Gravvy - that wizard who travels round with that stall of rare potions ingredients? He knows that you're often looking for the more obscure ingredients around this time with the seventh year NEWTs coming up and he just wanted to let you know that he would be setting up his stall in Hogsmeade Square next week Friday if you needed any."

"He's late this year," Professor Slughorn said. "I already bought my ingredients from Diagon Alley – at an extortionate price, I might add."

"Well, he asked me to give you the message," Professor McGonagall said dismissively. "Now, I'm on duty tonight, so I must be off to find any wandering miscreants."

"Of course," Professor Slughorn answered. "Good evening, Minerva."

"Good evening."

Their footsteps moved away, heading in opposite directions and out of hearing even for Remus's sensitive ears.

"That was bloody close," Sirius murmured.

"You're telling me," Remus agreed. "Come on, we'd better get going before the others wonder what happened to us."

"I suppose so," Sirius huffed. He pushed himself away from Remus reluctantly. "Anyone coming, Moony?"

Remus pressed his ear to the door. "Nope."

They crept out from the passage and swung the invisibility cloak over their shoulders again before heading down towards the kitchen.

"Pity we can't go and buy any of those potion ingredients," Sirius commented softly as they approached the picture of the fruit bowl. Remus tickled the pear so it swung open to reveal the kitchen.

"Yeah. Only potion masters are allowed to buy them," Remus agreed, smiling as the house elves welcomed them enthusiastically; their squeaky voices shrill as they tugged the two boys over to where the cake was displayed.

"If only we could get him to buy them for us," Sirius said. Then he froze and a smile began to form on his face.

"What?" Remus demanded. "You are aware that the Imperius curse is illegal, aren't you?"

"Polyjuice!" Sirius exclaimed. "Slughorn's _not_ going, but the bloke that owns the store is expecting him."

"Padfoot," Remus said tiredly. "Where on earth would we get ingredients for _Polyjuice _potion. That's our whole problem, remember? Lack of ingredients. Plus I heard it takes a month to brew, which would be too long."

"He has some ready-made," Sirius told him, his grin widening. "I heard some sixth-year Ravenclaws talking about it in the corridor yesterday. He was showing them examples of all sorts of complicated potions including Polyjuice. James and I were considering nicking some so we could sneak into the Slytherin common room and play pranks."

Remus felt a slow smile beginning to form on his own face. "You know, it _might _just work."

"I _am _brilliant, you know."

"Preaching to the choir, Padfoot."

"Well then, let us, by all means, go down and preach my brilliance to other, less-enlightened Marauders. Got the cake?"


	45. A Promise on Marauder's Honour

**Disclaimer: Sadly, the Marauders' world is still JK Rowlings, in spite of my efforts to convert it to mine.**

**Hi! Hope you all enjoy this new chapter. It's extra long – like good-quality toilet paper. Thanks for you fabulous reviews. I have reached TWO THOUSAND! **_**Does happy dance. **_**Looking forward to more!**

**Moonsign x**

_"Some people don't understand the promises they're making when they make them," I said._

_"Right, of course. But you keep the promise anyway. That's what love is. Love is keeping the promise anyway."_  
_(John Green - The Fault in Our Stars)_

**SIRIUS:**

Four days after Remus's birthday, Sirius and James entered the common room after Quidditch practice to find Peter and Remus waiting for them in their seats by the fire. It was full moon that night, and Remus – who was particularly susceptible to cold before and after his transformation – was curled up under a blanket in an armchair with his wand in one hand, his book of magical cartography in the other, and his map of Hogwarts on his lap.

"Alright, lads?" Peter said, looking up from his Care of Magical Creatures homework. "Good practice?"

"It was okay." James threw himself onto the sofa and groaned as his tired muscles protested. "They're working us hard. If we don't win the next game against Ravenclaw, we'll lose second place for the House cup. There's no way we're going to make first anyway. Our seeker is as bad at seeking as Moony is at making potions. Thank Merlin she's leaving next year and we can find someone new."

Sirius perched on the arm of Remus's chair and peered over the werewolf's narrow shoulder. "You working, Rem?"

"Just on the map. Not proper work. I got the spells all sorted for the moving staircases and secret rooms. Will you help me cast them?"

"At some point," Sirius said. "Not now. You shouldn't be working now. You should be conserving your strength for tonight." He reached out and plucked Remus's wand from his hand.

"Hey! Give it back."

"Come on, Moony," Sirius said. "For me?"

Remus turned his pale, pain-lined face to Sirius and scowled up at him. Remus's features always looked more angular and feral around this time, so the scowl was very effective. Sirius raised an eyebrow and Remus sighed. "Fine." He closed his book and folded up the map. Then he held out his hand and Sirius handed him back his wand.

"You're like an old mother hen, Padfoot," James observed from where he lounged on the sofa.

Sirius flicked a rude sign in James's direction without looking at him and picked up Remus's map, opening it out on his lap. It was drawn in black ink and – in true Remus style – was perfect in every detail. Remus's neat, precise handwriting labelled each room, and every wall, stairway and corridor was measured exactly (a lot of creative lying and more than one confundus charm had been required over the past few weeks to prevent people from questioning them too closely as to why they were wandering round the castle with a magical tape measure and notebook).

Sirius felt a warm weight against his side as Remus leaned against him and peered down at the map as well and Sirius had to resist the urge to reach out and run his fingers through Remus's ruffled hair.

"You'll have to check over it first," Remus said. "To make sure I haven't made any mistakes."

"It looks good," Sirius assured him. "Very neat and precise. I can't see anything wrong with it."

"We can name it and put a password on it, so only we can read it." Remus's tired face lit up as he explained. "And there's this really tricky spell you can do that takes a kind of print of your personality – like a magical photograph or something – and stores it in the map so if someone who doesn't have the right password tries to get in, the map will insult them in the way that you would have."

"That," James said, sitting up and grinning a very Marauder-esque grin, "is the most brilliant thing I have ever heard. We could call it the 'Marauder's Map'."

"Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs," Sirius said grandly, "purveyors of aids to magical mischief-makers are proud to present…The Marauder's Map!"

"That's good, Padfoot." Remus scrabbled round for his quill and stole a bit of Peter's homework parchment. "Let me write it down."

"And we'll need a password," Peter said, kneeling up on the floor to see the map. "Something Marauderish."

"How about 'I am using this map to perform mischief,'" James said.

"Or 'I am planning on being incorrigible'," Sirius suggested, remembering an accusation that had been directed his way more than once over the course of his life.

"I would never remember that," Peter said. "I don't even know what 'incorrigible' means."

"Bad and impossible to change or improve," Sirius supplied.

"Sounds like us," James said smugly.

"'I solemnly swear I'll use this map to prank Slytherins.'" Sirius winked at Remus who rolled his eyes.

"I like 'I solemnly swear', though," the werewolf said, writing it down.

"'I solemnly swear I am about to cause mischief,'" Peter offered, his chubby face screwed up in thought.

"'I solemnly swear I am up to bad things,'" Remus suggested.

"'I solemnly swear I am up to no good,'" James said.

The others looked at him, grins emerging on their faces.

"I like it," Sirius said. "Simple, but with so very much potential."

"'I solemnly swear I am up to no good'," Remus said, writing it down. "Don't let me lose this bit of parchment." He glanced out the window at the darkening sky. "Or – you know - eat it or anything."

"I'll look after it," Sirius said, taking it from him. "You'll have to go soon."

"I know. Believe me. You lads still up for a raid on Slughorn's polyjuice potion tonight while I'm indisposed? It's almost Friday and we'll need it by then. I got a piece of his hair off his robes last lesson. It's falling out so fast it wasn't hard."

"Don't you worry, Rem," Peter said. "We've got it covered. You just stay relaxed so you will recover quickly and can come with us to Hogsmeade."

Remus stood up, leaning on Sirius's shoulder. Sirius felt the other boy's muscles spasming in protest as they prepared for the transformation.

"You going to be okay?" he asked quietly, squeezing Remus's hand under the cover of their school robes.

"As always," Remus smiled tightly at him. "See you on the other side." He pulled away and walked to the portrait hole, climbing through it with great care. Sirius felt worry stab through him and lodge in his heart. Now that he was even closer to Remus than before, the thought of him alone in the Shack preyed on his mind even more savagely. Some of his emotions must have appeared on his face because when he glanced up he saw James's hazel eyes watching him sympathetically.

"Soon, Padfoot," James said, reaching over and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Soon we'll be able to go with him."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Stupid, stupid, _stupid_!" Sirius raged, as he, Peter, and James hurried towards the hospital wing. "Why didn't we just take the long way round?"

It was early evening of the next day, and the midnight raid for polyjuice potion had not gone well. They had acquired the polyjuice potion all right, and had been heading back from the Slytherin dungeons. It was a long way from the dungeons to the Gryffindor tower, so they had decided to take a short cut through one of the new secret passages they had discovered while measuring the castle for the map.

It was not a secret passage in the normal sense. If you tapped a certain brick three times with your wand, a ladder emerged that took you up two floors and saved a long roundabout route on the moving stairs. Unfortunately, it meant that they had to remove the invisibility cloak for a short time and it was their very bad luck that Filch happened to be passing by with his satanic kitten in tow as they emerged from the floor of the Charms corridor.

The incident had resulted in detention at break and lunch that day, as well as for two hours after school. The professors were taking security very seriously in light of the new Death Eater threat. The only thing the three Marauders had to be thankful about was that neither the shrunken vial of polyjuice potion, or the invisibility cloak, had been discovered on them.

Now, Sirius, James, and Peter burst into the hospital wing at something close to a run. Madame Pomfrey emerged from Remus's room at the back looking harried and flustered and when she spotted them she seemed to swell up like a rapidly inflating balloon.

"_Where _have you been?" she demanded. "He's been completely hysterical all day waiting for you to come! You _promised _you would!"

"We were in detention," James admitted, shrinking away a little, even though he was a head taller than her.

"_Detention!_" Instead of calming her, the news seemed to make Madame Pomfrey even more furious. "You were wandering round getting _detention_ while your friend was _suffering _alone all night and all day? He should be recovering his mind by now, but he's been so worked up by you lot not being here, I have no idea when he'll come round."

Sirius had never felt so guilty in his life. The thought of child-like Remus waking up and staring round his empty room with wide amber eyes as he searched for his pack was heartbreaking.

"Please can we go in?" he begged Madame Pomfrey, his eyes on the door to Remus's room.

"You'd better!" she snapped. "Don't let this happen again."

The three of them sidled meekly past her and opened the door. Sirius peered in and saw Remus sitting hunched in a little ball on top of his covers with his back to them, shaking with sobs in the dry, empty way that children do when they've been crying for a very long time, but have become so worked up, they are completely unable to stop.

Sirius hurried over to the bed and Remus glanced up. When he saw Sirius he let out a shaky wail and flung himself at him, causing Sirius to sit back hard on the bed with a shivering, crying armful of werewolf. Remus even _felt _smaller when he was like this, though Sirius was sure that had to be an illusion.

"Sorrysorrysorry!" Remus wept, soaking the shoulder of Sirius's robes.

"Why are you sorry?" Sirius asked, holding onto the shaking form in his lap. This Remus raised such completely different sentiments in him than normal Remus. He felt a violently instinctive urge to protect this child-like form of his – what? Friend? Boyfriend? They had so much more than those names could describe in one short word

"From what I can gather," Madame Pomfrey said tiredly from the doorway, "he thinks he did something to upset you and that's why you didn't come."

"Oh, Moony! It wasn't your fault," Sirius said. "I promise."

"We had detention," James explained, from where he and Peter were sitting beside the bed.

Remus turned his head to he could look at James and Peter without lifting it from Sirius's shoulder.

"Prong, W'mtai'," he said, sniffling and holding out his hand towards them. "Pack."

The two of them reached out and awkwardly held the offered hand.

"S'right, mate," James said. "We're sorry we took so long."

Remus gave a little hiccough buried his face against Sirius's shoulder again. "Moony bad?" his asked in a little muffled voice. "Moony sorry."

"No," Sirius said firmly. "Moony good. Moony's very good. You didn't do anything bad."

"Moony chew bed," Remus whispered in a guilty voice.

"The bed at the Shrieking Shack?" Peter asked. "No one cares about it, Rem. You can chew it all you like."

After a while the sniffling began to cease and Remus started to relax in Sirius's arms. His breathing grew slower and his head drooped against Sirius's neck.

"Finally," said Madame Pomfrey, appearing at the doorway again to check on them. "He hasn't slept at all since he woke up this morning. It's been a nightmare. I'm sorry, I shouted at you boys. It's just that you formed this pack for him and now he relies very strongly on you. I honestly don't know how he would cope if you stopped being friends with him."

"Not going to happen," Sirius said firmly.

"Are you okay like that?" she asked, frowning in a worried way when she saw how Remus clung to Sirius like a limpet. "I know it must be awkward for you to have him climb into your lap like that when he's technically a fifteen-year-old boy."

Sirius's arms tightened protectively. "No, he's not. Technically he's a little kid right now. I don't mind."

She shot him an odd, assessing look and Sirius groaned inwardly. Women and their damn insight into people's emotions! Thankfully she said nothing and disappeared again muttering something about changing bedclothes in the main ward.

"She gave you an Evans-look," James observed.

"What's an Evans-look?" Peter asked.

"You know – that look Evans gets when she's working out people's secrets."

"Ooh! I'd hate to have that look directed at me," Peter said, shuddering.

"Bloody women," Sirius muttered, feeling he should make a contribution to the conversation.

"What was she working out, Padfoot?" James asked, his eyebrows quirked.

"How the hell do I know?" Sirius asked. "Half the time they work it out before I do."

"She's amazing, isn't she?" James said dreamily.

"Eew! James that's horrible!" Peter said, inching his chair away from him.

"Not Madame Pomfrey, you wamker - though she's probably only in her late twenties, you know. I meant Evans."

"One track mind, this one," Sirius said, nodding towards James.

"Four track mind, actually," Peter corrected him. "Marauders, Evans, Quidditch and pranks."

"Good point."

"I think about other stuff too," James protested.

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Er…" James screwed up his face in thought. "Food. Sex. Anigmagi. Annoying Snape. Presents. Christmas. Holidays…"

"Pretty much the same as Sirius, then," Peter commented. "It's like the same brain in two bodies."

"I think about lots more than that!" Sirius protested. "I'm really deep underneath. And I don't think about Evans except in a homicidal way."

"Good," James said, looking relieved. "Because you know she's mine."

"I don't want her," Sirius assured him.

"Well, who do you want?"

"I'm not pining uselessly and unrealistically over anyone," Sirius told him, quite truthfully. The person he wanted was in his arms right now, breathing softly against his neck and tickling his cheek with tousled, tawny hair.

"It's not useless. One day she'll give in."

"Yeah sure," Sirius said. "And you have lots of messy-haired, green-eyed babies with glasses and bad tempers."

"My babies will be awesome," James said, sticking his nose in the air. "And you'll _have_ to like them, because you'll be their godfather."

"Will I?" Sirius said brightening up.

"Yup. And Pete and Remus as well. Though I think I read somewhere that werewolves aren't allowed to adopt children, so it might not be official."

"_What?_" Sirius felt hot anger boil in his chest. "Why not?"

"Why do you think? You know what people are like."

Sirius felt Remus stir against him and eyelashes tickled his neck as his eyes opened. The arm that had been resting loosely around his waist tightened a little. Remus was awake and - judging by the little star-and-moon design he'd just traced onto the bare skin where Sirius's school shirt had ridden up – in his right mind and taking advantage of the position they were in by keeping very still so the others wouldn't know it. Sirius felt a little shiver of forbidden delight that they were flaunting their secret so openly without James's and Peter's knowledge.

"I think it's mean how people treat werewolves," Peter said, oblivious to the silent interaction between his friends. "What if one really wanted a baby but couldn't have one for some reason?"

"They wouldn't care," James said. "Because they're close-minded, short-sighted, prejudiced gits at the Ministry."

"Yeah, they are," Peter agreed. "I heard that they arrested a little old witch living in some village because she charmed her cat pink to match her curtains and they thought the Muggles would notice."

"You could do it with muggle hair-dye just as easily," Sirius said. "They use chemicals and stuff. I read about it in my Muggle studies book and I was considering trying it on Snape."

The conversation continued for almost half an hour, meandering from one random topic to another. Sirius only had part of his mind on it. Most of his attention was focused on the delightfully warm, sleepy boy in his arms who was tracing soft patterns onto his skin with slender fingers while Sirius tried not to blush.

Eventually, it had to end, when Madame Pomfrey peered round the door to tell them it was time to to leave if they wanted to get back to their dorm before curfew.

Sirius shifted and gave Remus a gentle, but unnecessary shake to 'wake him up'. Remus stirred – more obviously this time – and pulled away to blink sleepily at his audience.

"You all there, mate?" James asked.

"Um…yes. Unless I lost a limb along the way that I haven't noticed yet," Remus stifled a yawn that looked real.

He looked at Sirius. "Why _am_ I lounging in your lap?"

"You crawled here."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Not a problem."

"You do it fairly often," Peter said.

"Do I?" Remus looked rather embarrassed. "Since when?"

"Since always," James said. "Child-like you just gravitates there."

"Oh." Remus ducked his head and shifted to the edge of his bed, reaching into the cabinet for his school robe to pull over his pyjamas. He paused suddenly, looking rather horrified, "Was I crying? I was, wasn't I?"

"It wasn't your fault," Sirius hastened to assure him. "We got in detention and didn't come to see you. You thought we weren't coming because you'd done something wrong."

"I _hate _this!" Remus said savagely, slamming the cabinet shut again. "I feel so stupid!"

None of them knew how to answer. There was nothing they could say to comfort him.

"One of these days," Remus continued, pulling on his cloak roughly, seemingly unmindful of his injuries. "One of these days I'll find Greyback and tear his life from him with my teeth, just as he took so much of mine!"

"Remus, please calm down," Madame Pomfrey said, looking distressed. "Here - drink this before you go."

She held out a vial of potion and Remus glared at it before sighing and gulping it down. "Sorry," he muttered after a while, avoiding their eyes.

"Nothing to be sorry for, mate," James said with forced cheerfulness. "Let's get back to the dorm."

""""""""""""""

It was late Friday evening and almost completely dark outside. Sirius felt unusually nervous as they crept down the tunnel behind the mirror that led to the alleyway in Hogsmeade. So much rested on what they were about to do, and if they were caught, they would receive a lot worse than a few detentions as punishment.

It had been decided that James - as the best actor - would take the polyjuice potion that would disguise him as Slughorn. Right now, he stumbled along in front of Sirius dressed in the unflattering, tent-like robes that their professor preferred.

Unfortunately, the invisibility cloak no longer covered four, or even three of them very successfully, so they decided that Peter would accompany James to the stall in case it all went wrong and they needed to become invisible very quickly, while Sirius (who was too tall to fit easily under the cloak with the equally tall James) and Remus (who was the best at keeping watch with his extra senses) would be on the lookout for trouble from the shadowy protection an alley near the stall.

They reached the end of the tunnel and James took a deep breath, pulling the small vial of potion out of his pocket. "Now remember, there's not much here. I'll only be Slughorn for about twenty or twenty-five minutes at the most. We have to get there and get out in a hurry, okay?"

The others nodded and James pulled the cork out and gulped back the potion in one go. For a moment, nothing happened, and then he began to swell up, growing rounder and rounder until he barely fit in the tunnel anymore.

"Does this robe make me look fat?" he asked in Slughorn's distinctive voice.

"Just hurry up, you git!" Sirius hissed, trying not to laugh. James handed him his glasses before tapping the bricks to open the doorway to the alley.

They hurried out, Sirius, Remus, and Peter keeping to the shadows under the cloak to prevent people from seeing the bits of them that weren't quite covered. They headed as quickly as they could towards the square where temporary stalls were set up. The stall for rare potions ingredients had been set up outside the existing Hogsmeade apothecary.

"Keep watch in that alley over there," James whispered. "It's right by the stall, down by the side of the apothecary.

"I see it," Remus whispered back. "Pete, take us there under the cloak. Keep to the shadows. Drop us off, then go and stand as near to James as possible the whole time he's buying the ingredients. He might need to disappear fast. Sirius and I will stay in the alley and keep watch for trouble. Go James."

Slughorn's portly figure waddled off in the direction of the store and the three of them sidled round to the alley.

"…for my seventh years," James was saying as they arrived and Sirius and Remus slipped out from under the cloak, keeping to the shadows. "Here are the quantities I'll need."

"Go to James, Pete!" Sirius hissed, giving the chubby Marauder a shove.

Peter moved away and Sirius shrank further back into the shadows beside Remus. He reached up to touch Remus's shoulder and felt that the werewolf was very still and tense. "Relax, Moony," he whispered. "Don't wind yourself up."

"The smell of the alley is too strong," Remus whispered back. "We're next door to a bloody apothecary! The smell of potions ingredients is completely taking over everything else."

"We'll just have to watch with our eyes then," Sirius reassured him. "It'll be okay."

Remus didn't relax, so Sirius moved quietly behind him and wound his arms around his slender waist, resting his chin on Remus's shoulder as he scanned the crowd for anyone who could get them into trouble. Remus let out a little sigh and leant into the embrace, relaxing marginally as Sirius dropped a quick kiss into his hair.

"I'm glad you came this year," the store owner was saying, as he handed packages over to James who shrunk them and stored them in his pockets. "I wondered if you would, because I'm later than usual."

Sirius jerked his head as he spotted Professor Sprout's chubby figure going into a shop on the opposite side of the square. He nudged Remus who nodded to show he had spotted her too.

"I got some things at Diagon Alley," James said to the stall owner. "But the prices are extortionate, so I was glad to hear you were here."

Sirius couldn't help smiling as James twisted the real Slughorn's words perfectly to fit the situation. The messy-haired Marauder really _was _a superb actor.

Remus tensed suddenly in Sirius's arms and tilted his head towards the alley behind them.

"What is it?" Sirius whispered in alarm.

"I can feel someone watching us. Hush."

Sirius froze himself and strained his ears. He could hear nothing but he could tell by the way Remus's muscles were rippling with tension that the werewolf still sensed someone behind them. He slowly slid his wand from his pocket.

"Can you hear them?" he breathed into Remus's ear.

"Four," Remus answered, "Moving closer."

"Bugger, bugger, bugger!" Sirius muttered. "We can't go out into the square now. What if Professor Sprout saw us?"

"Let me go," Remus said, squirming a little in Sirius's arms.

Sirius obeyed and Remus shifted in front of him, facing the darkness of the alley in that supple, defensive crouch Sirius remembered from when he'd scared the boy in the bathroom.

"Are you going to fight us, boy?" a man's voice said from the deeper shadows further into the alley. "We could see you and your perverted little lover outlined clearly against the light. We know what you are. We don't like your kind. A poison on our society."

"Our kind?" Sirius asked, feeling sick with fear.

"Fags," the voice spat. "Homos. You're disgusting." The words were slightly slurred and Sirius suddenly wondered if the man was drunk.

"We haven't done anything to you," Sirius said. Remus didn't move a muscle. Sirius could just make out his crouched outline and the way his head tilted towards the voice in a very canine way.

"You don't have to. You're young boys. We know you're from Hogwarts. You're contaminating our schools."

"Remus? Sirius?"

Sirius let out a soft groan as he heard James's breathless voice behind him. "That was a close one. It's a good thing Pete was right there when I changed. Are you ready to go?"

"There's more of you?" said a new voice, also male. "It's like a spreading disease."

"Who's that?" Peter asked tremulously. "Who's in there with you?"

"Come on, Moony," Sirius stepped forward to grip Remus's shoulder, talking under his breath. "Let's make a run for it."

"_Petrificus Totalus!_" The spell emerged from the dark and hit him before he had a chance to react. His limbs locked and he toppled to the floor, unable to move a muscle. He heard yelps of shock from James and Peter and a furious growl from Remus. He saw the werewolf spring over his fallen body and launch himself at the unseen men. There was a surprised grunt and the sound of a body hitting the concrete.

"Damn, the little fag fights like a cat!" one of the men said. "_Lumos_!"

If his eyes hadn't been frozen open, Sirius would have blinked in the sudden light. Remus had been right. There were four men in the alley. Three of them were trying to pull Remus off another one who looked like he was suffocating. This was not surprising as Remus was straddling his chest and had both hands around his neck.

"I'll _kill _you!" he was growling. "I'll _kill _you for daring to hurt him!"

"Stun him!" one of the men said urgently. "Let go, you little pervert! He deserved it! You both do – disgusting creatures!"

There were two flashes of red light. When Sirius's vision cleared, one of the men was down and stunned, the half-strangled one was gasping on the floor, and Remus was rolling out of the way of the second stunner. Sirius guessed that one of the spells had come from James under the invisibility cloak.

Remus leapt up again like a wild animal and slammed one of the two remaining men against the wall, while the other man froze as the back of his robe dipped in where an invisible wand was pressed to his spine.

"Don't move," James's voice said coldly. "If you dare hurt another of my friends, I swear I'll cast the killing curse on you."

The man who was pinned against the wall by Remus's slim form gave a strangled laugh. "Your friends?" he gasped, his eyes searching the dimly lit alley for the source of the voice. "You'll stand up for one of _them_? Do you even knowwhat they are? We _saw _them in the alley– cuddling together, the little poufs. _Disgusting._ It was –"

He never got to finish what he was saying because Remus knocked him out cold with a fist that was too quick to even see.

"_Stupefy!_" said James's furious voice and the other man slumped to the floor. The only one still conscious was the half-strangled one who had the good sense to lie very still and concentrate on breathing.

"_Finite Incantatum._"

Sirius felt the spell leave his body as Remus knelt down beside him. "Are you okay?" he asked urgently. "Oh, Merlin, Padfoot – Please be okay!" Gentle hands felt his face, arms and chest.

"I'm fine, Moony. Really. Nothing hurts."

Remus let out a soft, keening sound and pulled Sirius roughly into a sitting position before hugging him tightly to his chest.

"Air is becoming an issue, though," Sirius gasped.

"Sorry, sorry!" Remus released him.

"Lads, we really have to get out of here," Peter's frightened voice said from under the cloak.

Remus pulled Sirius to his feet and the four of them hurried down the alley away from the square. "Keep away from people," James said. "There's no way the four of us can fit under here. Down here and to the right and then the left and left again to get back to our alley, I think."

The others followed him and to their relief, the familiar wall that led to the secret passage was just where he said it would be. Sirius tapped the right combination of bricks with his wand and they slid open to reveal the tunnel.

"Thank Merlin!" Peter whimpered, as they hurried down it and back to the school. "Remind me never to sneak into Hogsmeade again. Why do things like that always happen?"

Sirius had no idea how they managed to get back to the Gryffindor tower without getting caught. It felt like hours before they climbed, shaky and exhausted, though the portrait hole to their common room. They headed up to their dorm straight away and shut the door behind them.

Sirius collapsed into his bed and groaned. "Bloody animagus potion. This had better work."

"Why did they attack you?" James asked, kneeling in front of his trunk and pulling the potions ingredients out of his pockets. Sirius froze at the question, his stomach lurching. He sat up slowly, glancing at the bed opposite to see Remus's pale face looking back. "I know it was something you did that made them angry. Why were they calling you those names? Why did he call you two perverts? And don't lie, 'cause I can see from your expressions that something's up." He climbed onto his bed and folded his arms stubbornly.

Sirius felt sick with nervousness. He was actually shaking as he glanced at James and then looked away. His gaze flicked to Remus who looked frightened and upset, but also resigned.

"Um…we…" Sirius searched for the right words, his stomach churning and his heart hammering. "We…Remus and I…we…we're…like…together."

The silence that followed was the longest one Sirius had ever lived through. It seemed to last centuries and he didn't have to courage to lift his head and see James's or Peter's expressions.

"Um…" Eventually James spoke, sounding incredibly uncertain. "Judging by the looks of sick terror on your faces, I'm guessing that by 'together', you mean like in a…um… 'going out', poofy, kind of way."

"What?" Peter's voice was thick with disbelief. "You mean…snogging and stuff?"

"Y-yes," Remus's said, his voice very soft. Sirius looked up to see him perched in the middle of his bed, his knees drawn up to his chest and his face deathly pale.

"Well…damn," James said blankly. "Just…damn."

"Good 'damn' or bad 'damn'?" Sirius asked, desperate for at least some kind of reaction.

"How long?" Peter asked.

"A w-while," Remus said. "Since that time w-when Sirius and I weren't t-t-talking, you know?"

"You weren't talking 'cause you were…going out?" James looked as though he were struggling to keep up with events.

"No, we weren't talking 'cause Lily Evans kept going on about me fancying Moony, and it was doing my head in." Sirius explained, "I didn't want to believe her, but I was –you know – feeling stuff around him, so I started avoiding him and he thought I was avoiding him 'cause I knew he liked me, so he got depressed and then you hit me and I went to say sorry, and he was in the bathroom looking so hot and stuff that I knew I _did_ like him, and I asked him if I could kiss him and –"

"Okay, okay!" James looked slightly horrified. "I don't need all the details."

Sirius snapped his mouth shut and glanced towards Remus who had buried his face against his knees and appeared to be trying to pull his own hair out in handfuls.

"What's he doing?" Peter asked, also staring at Remus.

Sirius shrugged. "I don't think he was impressed with my explanation. And he doesn't want to lose all his friends. Nor do I." he added softly, still uncertain as to how James and Peter were taking the news.

"Great _Merlin_, this is a lot to take in," James groaned, running his hands through his hair. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"I don't know," Sirius said sarcastically. "Why _didn't _we, Moony? I mean this conversation has been so fun this far, I can't think why we didn't want to have it sooner."

"Sirius, don't," Remus whispered, raising his head. His expression was devastated. "Don't make it worse."

Sirius felt his heart clench. "Ah, Moony. I'm sorry." He climbed off his own bed and went to sit beside Remus, taking the smaller boy's hand in his own and treating James and Peter to his most defiant stare. Both boys looked away.

"Is this what all that stuff with Evans was about?" James asked, studying his duvet cover so he wouldn't have to meet their eyes.

"Yes," Remus said. "She knew we…l-liked…each other, and she wanted us to get together. She said she just w-wanted us…well, me really – she doesn't like Sirius that much – to be h-h-happy." Remus pressed closer to Sirius and Sirius squeezed his hand. "And Sirius d-does make me happy," Remus admitted, his voice breaking a little.

Peter looked to James for direction and the bespectacled Marauder sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, before looking up to where Sirius and Remus were huddled together defensively. "You don't have to look so worried," he said tiredly. "We're not going to attack you or anything. You can't help who you like, I guess."

"That didn't seem to bother those guys tonight," Sirius muttered.

James frowned. "They were evil gits. You don't have to listen to anything they said. You're not perverts. Just…different." He hesitated. "Did they see you guys…um…snogging?"

"No!" Sirius and Remus said together. "We would never do that at such a stupid time," Sirius added. "We were keeping look out like we planned. But then Moony got all uptight because he couldn't smell any danger over the scent of all the potions ingredients and started getting all wolfy with panic, so I just put my arms around him to calm him down. And then he sensed someone behind us and it was those guys and we didn't know what to do because we couldn't go out in the square and be caught out of school. We saw Professor Sprout lurking about in the square."

"We should have guessed, I suppose," Peter said, obviously not having managed to progress beyond the fact that Remus and Sirius were together. "You guys have always hugged and stuff."

"Straight guys hug each other, too," James pointed out.

"Yeah, but not like these two do," Peter said. "They were always different."

"Story of my life." Remus sighed.

"Just don't make out in front of us or anything," James said. "I'd rather not be subjected to that."

"You're okay with us?" Sirius asked, hardly daring to believe it.

"Would you dump him if I asked you to?" James flicked Remus a meaningful glance that Sirius couldn't interpret.

"No!" Sirius said, wrapping possessive arms around the werewolf and drawing him against his chest. To his surprise, his answer made both James and Remus smile.

"I told you he didn't really want his girls," Remus said smugly.

"You _didn't _tell me it was because he had you instead." James's voice was very dry.

"_I _told you," said Sirius. "On the morning of Moony's birthday."

"He did, you know," Peter said, grinning.

"Ack, don't remind me. I _thought _that position you two were in looked dodgy."

"Mmm…" Sirius smiled wickedly. "It _was _delightfully dodgy."

"Gross! I don't want to know. Let's talk about something else."

Sirius didn't care what they talked about. All that mattered was that James and Peter knew and they didn't mind. The Marauders had survived through the revelation of yet another damning secret.

_We'll never break up, _he thought, as the conversation turned to the newly acquired ingredients of the animagus potion. _Not ever. The Marauders will be forever. _

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Pete and Remus said they'd meet us under the willow tree by the lake," James said, as he and Sirius headed out of the Quidditch changing rooms after practice the next day.

"Good," Sirius said, stretching his aching muscles. "I can't believe they made us practice on a Saturday! That should be illegal. I ache in places that I didn't even know I had."

They passed a group of third year Gryffindor girls who had come to watch the practice – or at least Sirius and James who were _at _the practice. Sirius winked at one of them and she gave a high pitched giggle and went into a huddle with her friends.

"Does Remus know you still do that?" James asked, looking uncomfortable.

"Yup," Sirius said. "It's all part of the cover. I think he actually has a tally going on somewhere of how many girls fancy me. Trust Moony to turn it into a project."

"But…doesn't he _mind_?"

Sirius frowned. "What part of 'cover' don't you understand? We _have _to do this! Do you even know the kind of trouble we could be setting ourselves up for if anyone found out about us?"

"It just doesn't seem right," James said. "If you guys are going to be…together…like that, you should be…loyal." He was blushing furiously by the time he had finished speaking and Sirius could see that the whole concept still hadn't quite sunk in properly. He felt a rush of fondness for his best friend. Even though James was obviously uncomfortable with the subject, he was determined that he would look out for his friends.

"I don't _like _having to keep it secret," Sirius told him. "If I could, I would tell the whole world how amazingly gorgeous he is – you brought up the subject, don't choke like that – but we _can't. _All Moony has ever wanted was to be normal and fit in. He wants people to accept him, and this is just making it that bit harder for him to feel like everyone else.

"If people _knew_, can you imagine how he would be treated? They would judge him and they would always be watching him and saying horrible things about him behind his back. And then it would only be a matter of time before they watched a little too closely and saw some other strange things about him. Like how he's always ill at full moon, and how some of those 'abuse scars' look rather new. Do you see what I'm getting at?"

James looked away and said nothing.

"And it's not only him, Prongs. I'm really scared for myself as well." It was strange how much effort it took for him to admit that.

"What do you mean?" James asked, looking up with narrowed eyes.

"The heir to the Moste Ancient and Noble House of Black turning out to be a shirt-lifter? Think about it, James. Do you have any _idea _what my family would do to me?" Sirius gave a slightly hysterical laugh. "The Imperious curse would be the kindest thing on a long list of hexes too dark even to be labelled as 'Unforgivable' because the Ministry likes to pretend they don't exist.

"And they're all over the place. Practically every pureblood family is related to me in one way or another, especially the darker ones. The only reason _you're _not my second cousin or something is because our families have been rivals for so long. And let me tell you – there are a lot of those families out there who would do _anything _to find out such a juicy secret about the Black heir: Some would want to discredit the family; some would want revenge on me for being Gryffindor, or being first-born; some would want our family name to remain powerful even if it means the quiet removal of the Black heir from the equation."

Sirius hunched his shoulders as a shudder ran through his body. "And they're all here – in this school, _watching _me all the time. I can't afford to slip up. I can't afford to _not _wink at the girls. For me _and_ for Moony - because the easiest solution to the situation might seem to be removing the one that 'corrupted' me in the first place, and I know I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to him because of me."

Sirius glanced sideways at James who had been looking paler and sicker every word he spoke. "You have a right messed up family, mate," he managed to croak eventually.

Sirius stuffed his hands into his pockets and tilted his head towards the sky. "You don't know half of it."

"Dump him," James said.

"_What?_"

"Dump him. You can find someone else. So can he. Girls. You don't know what you're getting yourselves into with this. It's not a crush or some experiment, Sirius. This could be your _lives_ on the line. You're only fifteen. Is a bit of snogging really worth it?"

They had reached the willow tree, but Sirius didn't sit down. He was shaking with anger or frustration – even he could no longer tell. All he knew was that James _had _to understand. "It's not about _snogging_, James! It's so much more than that. Don't you _understand_? It's…it's…_more_. I would want to be with him even if he hated me. I would stay with him even if he was deformed or ugly or…or…a girl or _anything._ I've _always _wanted that – wanted him. No one else. Even if something terrible happened, I couldn't want anything else. If he – I don't know – turned into a wolf and got stuck that way forever, I would damn well turn into Padfoot and stay that way forever too. If he got stuck as post-moon him with a kid's mind forever, I would take care of him and make sure he had much more fun than he ever did in his real childhood with…with _toys_ and _games_ and _ice-cream_ and day trips to wherever the hell it is happy kids go! Do you understand? I _can't _leave him, Prongs. I l-l-_love _him."

Sirius had never before seen James as gob-smacked as he was then. He stood in front of Sirius with his mouth opening and closing wordlessly. His face couldn't seem to decide whether to be pale or scarlet and had settled on a rather unflattering red-and-white blotchy pattern as a compromise. "Bloody hell, Padfoot," he said eventually. "And you say _I _am whipped."

Sirius scowled. "You are."

"Well, if _I'm _whipped, you're hanged, drawn, and quartered."

Sirius sighed and flopped to the ground, lying on his back and crossing his arms behind his head. "Fine, I am. So what?"

"Just…don't hurt him."

"_Hurt _him?" Sirius sat up again and glared at James. "Were you even listening when I poured my heart out to you?"

"I don't mean deliberately," James said quickly. "But sometimes you do stupid things without thinking about the consequences. If you …l-l-_like_ him that much, I can only guess that he's gone all out for you too, and you know that when Moony goes all out, he doesn't hold anything back. He's given you his heart, Padfoot. Don't crush it in your enthusiasm."

"Eew! You do come out with some disturbingly and poetically graphic stuff sometimes. Fine tune it and send it to Evans. That'll get her if anything does."

"I'm serious – don't laugh. I really am. I know you wouldn't mean to, but you're a bit…Black…sometimes. It's not your fault, I know. It's just, I wouldn't want to have to choose between you and him if everything went wrong."

Sirius suddenly remembered that moment on top of the ledge just before he fell and Remus caught him. _"Keep you bloody wolf senses to yourself!" _The words had poured from his mouth unstoppably. Like poison venom. He was Black to the bone, no matter how much he fought it.

"You're right, of course," he said softly. "Just like Bellatrix said. 'Too Slytherin for Gryffindor, too Gryffindor for Slytherin.' Just promise me one thing?"

"What?"

"Promise me that if I do something to hurt him, you'll choose him over me. Promise me, James."

"It depends on the situation –" James began.

"_No!_" James jumped. "No matter what – him over me. Promise me. Marauder's honour."

James visibly struggled with himself and eventually groaned and sagged against the tree. "Fine. I promise. Marauder's honour."

"Good." Sirius lay back again, satisfied.

"Speaking of Marauders, here comes Wormtail and your little love-muffin now."

"If you ever use the phrase 'love-muffin' again, you will be hanging from the branches of the Whomping Willow by your entrails while Evans lights a barbecue underneath you and dances round it cackling madly."

"Ooh!" Peter said, dropping to the ground beside James. "Who are we barbecuing?"

"James," Sirius said, scowling at the grinning boy.

"Can't I offer Snivellus as a substitute?" James asked, pretending to wave something tantalisingly in front of Sirius's nose. "Wouldn't you rather see him being barbecued?"

"Oh, alright," Sirius sighed. "How can I resist an offer like that?"

"You two have to get over your Snape vendetta," Remus said, strolling up behind Peter. He had his book on cartography in one hand and a quill behind his ear. He looked so sweetly scholarly and eccentric that Sirius thought his heart might pop.

"Give up our Snape vendetta?" James asked, sounding shocked. "What would we have to live for then?"

"I just think it'll go too far one day and get you into trouble." Remus folded gracefully to the floor beside Sirius who was watching appreciatively. "See something you like, Padfoot?" he added, sending Sirius a cheeky grin before shifting and pulling the map out of his pocket.

"Ew! Moony!" Peter screwed up his face. "Cheers for that mental image."

"I thought it was rather interesting." Sirius said.

"So Rem," James said in an effort to change the subject. "How's the map going?"

"Really good. Watch this." Remus unfolded the map and laid it on Sirius's stomach which was his nearest available surface. Sirius propped himself up on his elbows and frowned when he saw that it _wasn't _the map – only a piece of blank parchment.

"What happened to the map?" James demanded.

"Watch, I said." Remus tapped the parchment with his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Black lines began to appear on the paper, forming in neat lines that quickly became walls, and then rooms or corridors, until finally the completed map was lying in front of them. As Sirius watched opened-mouthed, he saw one of the staircases move.

"Remus Lupin, you are my god!" he breathed.

"I wouldn't go quite that far," James said, making a face at Sirius, "but it would be close. You are one hell of a Marauder, Moony. This is totally _awesome_."

"I need help to get the personality imprints in it and I've found a spell that will put people on it."

"Wait a minute!" Peter interrupted. "People moving around you mean? And labelled with their names?"

"Yup," Remus said smugly. "I'm guessing that's why the book is banned. It's a bit invasive of people's privacy."

"This is one of the coolest things ever," Peter announced. "In fact, the only thing that meets its level of coolness is the invisibility cloak."

"I'll second that," Sirius agreed.

"We have all day," Remus said. "Do you guys want to do the other spells now?"

"""


	46. BellyDancing Slytherins

**Disclaimer: All the bits you don't recognise from the books are mine. The rest belongs to JK Rowling.**

**Warnings: Violence and slashiness. **

**Hi! Sorry this chapter has been long in coming. My beta and I have both had exams and things on the go. Anyway, hope you all enjoy this chapter. Review and let me know what you think!**

**Moonsign x**

_Revenge is a dish best served cold_

_(Anon.)_

**REMUS:**

Three days later, Remus took a side trip to the dorm on his way to dinner to put his books away. The map was lying open on his bed; a clear sign that James and Sirius had ben on an editing spree. He tapped it with his wand.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The lines began to appear and soon the map was spread out in front of him. It soon became apparent what his friends had been doing. Dotted over the map were pencil markings that indicated little mistakes that Remus had made in his drawing of the map. There was a rather large question mark over an area in the dungeons where the walls of two corridors didn't quite meet up. Remus had noticed that when he had been drawing the map. He could only assume that they had made some mistakes when measuring the area.

It wouldn't take long to re-measure the walls, and Remus hated leaving anything incorrect or unfinished. He went over to Sirius's trunk and pulled out the magical tape measure. It would only take a few minutes and then he could go to dinner.

He couldn't find the invisibility cloak in James's trunk, so he guessed the other boy had it with him. He hesitated for a few moments, then squared his shouldes. Most of the Slytherins would be at dinner, wouldn't they? And there was no rule against Gryffindors being in the dungeons, even if it was traditionally Slytherin territory.

_It's not like I can't protect myself if I need to, _he assured himself, as he climbed out the portrait hole.

It was a lot cooler in the dungeons and the air smelled of damp and stone. As Remus had guessed, the dim corridors were empty and echoey. He hurried to the corridor that had been marked on the map and pulled out the tape measure. He attached it to one end of the wall and walked with it to the other. A little squeaky voice emerged from it as he went; "_ten metres, ten point five metres, eleven metres…_"

When he reached the end of the corridor, he crouched down to read the final measurement. It was at that moment that he caught the scent of someone standing a little way behind him. No - more than one person - two, three, four...

He swung round, reaching for his wand, but he was not quick enough.

"_Petrificus Totallus!_"

Remus leaped out of the way of the spell, but it glanced off one of his ankles and he felt it take hold. His limbs snapped together and he toppled to the floor.

"Well look here, gentlemen," A smooth voice drawled. "A lion wandering free in our territory."

Remus was presented with the view of Malfoy, Lestrange, Nott, Bellatrix and – Oh, Merlin! – _Regulus_ peering down at him.

"I seem to remember that _this _little lion was the one that threatened our Regulus once," Bellatrix said, looking delighted when she saw who it was. "And he's one of Sirius Black's friends. What would Sirius say if he found you all beaten and naked and tied to the Gryffindor flagpole, hmm?" She smiled brightly at him, her bright, hooded eyes reminding Remus strongly of a rabid weasel he'd once encountered in the wood behind his father's house.

Remus felt himself grow sick with fear. He was completely helpless. If they took off his clothes and found the bite scar…

"I've heard he's the brains behind Black's gang of Gryffindorks," Nott commented. "If we do the spell to take his clothes off, we'd have to undo the _petrificus_ and he'd I'm not sure we want to risk that."

Bellatrix looked very disappointed and Remus felt his heartbeat slowing a little in relief.

"We'll have to settle for a little lesson on how much we _don't _like disgusting little half bloods skulking round our territory," Malfoy said. He aimed a hard kick at Remus's side that would have caused him to curl up in pain if he hadn't been trapped by the spell. It acted as a signal for the others as well, and suddenly kicks were raining down on his unprotected body from all directions while he lay there, helpless even to curl up with his back to them as he used to do with his father.

He stared up at his attackers with pain-blurred eyes and suddenly noticed that Regulus wasn't joining in the beating. He was hovering behind them, wringing his hands and glancing up and down the corridor. He looked back to where Remus was lying and when he saw Remus's eyes on him, his face twisted and he took a step back.

"Regulus!" Sirius's bother jumped as Lestrange spotted him and frowned. "What's your problem? Don't you _want _to get revenge on your blood-traitor bother?" When Regulus just stared helplessly at him, Lestrange's expression became cruel and cunning. "Or are you harbouring secret sympathies for him? You know what we do to people who betray our House and our families."

Regulus fliched. "No," he whispered. "I - I just wasn't sure if you wanted me to."

"Of _course_ we do, little Reggie," Bellatric cooed. "If it wasn't for your sharp hearing, we wouldn't have known there was anyone down here at all. You deserve a reward for that. Come here and give him a piece of your mind. If you look closely, you can see how his eyes show his pain, but the rest of his body can't react. Isn't it _captivating_?"

Regulus was shoved forward and he stared down at Remus, grey faced and white-lipped. He looked close to tears, and when Remus saw those familiar grey eyes looking so frightened and helpless, he felt his heart ache in pity.

_It's okay, _he tried to make his eyes say. _I don't blame you. None of us can help what we're made to be. You can't help being a Slytherin any more than I can help being a werewolf. It's okay. It's okay._

"Go on Reggie," Bellatrix said, her voice taunting. "Or would you rather show your solidarity to your brother's friends and join him?"

Regulus closed his eyes and kicked out with his foot, landing a stinging blow to Remus's already-aching side.

"Again!" Nott commanded.

Another blow and another. They were clumsy and mechanical, lacking the viciousness of the others', but they were powered by fear so they landed solidly again and again. Remus knew that if he wasn't so used to pain, he might have passed out by now. He wished, fervently, that he had.

It seemed like hours before Malfoy said, "I'm hungry. We'll miss dinner if we stay down here any longer. Get rid of him. Let's go."

They shoved Remus roughly into a shadowy alcove in the wall and left him there, propped up against the wall, as their footsteps faded. Remus was remained alone and frozen in the dark, but he could only feel relieved that the pain had stopped.

_Thank Merlin I didn't take the map with me, _he thought. _The others can find me on it. How long will it take them to begin looking? I often miss dinner to work in the library. How long until they look for me?_

He didn't know the answer. There seemed to be no passing time in the damp, dark alcove into which he'd been shoved. The stone was icy, and the cold seemed to be seeping through him right to the marrow. He couldn't even shiver to warm himself.

Eventually, he heard soft footsteps approaching and stopping outside his hiding place. For one joyful moment his bemused senses thought he smelled Sirius, and then he noticed the differences in the scent. Regulus.

_What do you want now? _He thought tiredly at the boy. _Have you come back for more?_

"You're still in there?" Regulus's voice shook with uncertainty, and Remus felt a hand reach into the dark and touch his arm. "Why hasn't my brother found you yet? I can't tell him – they'd kill me. And you're so cold. I don't know how to break the spell either. I've never been that good at remembering them. Not like Sirius."

Remus, of course, remained silent. He had no choice.

"I don't know what to do."

Remus felt the hand move down his arm to touch his icy fingers. "Oh God! You're not dead, are you?" The hand moved quickly to his face and one warm finger touched the corner of his eye. Remus rolled his eyes – the only part of his body still under his control – so that Regulus could feel the movement. "Oh, thank Merlin!" the boy breathed.

There was another long silence and the hand didn't move. "I didn't want to hurt you. I don't like you, but it wasn't right - hurting you while you were helpless like that. But I had no choice. You know that, right? I'm not like my brother. I'm not brave. And he likes you, I know. You and Potter and Pettirgrew. I think you get different kinds of friends in Gryffindor. You don't have to keep proving yourself to them. Not that I want to be in Gryffindor. I wouldn't. Of course I wouldn't." He sighed and moved his hand. "I have to go now. The others can't find me here. But I'll come and check if you're still here later. If you are…" his voice trailed away. "I really am sorry."

And then Remus was alone, feeling even colder than he had before, and it was a long time before he heard footsteps again. This time he was certain who it was because he heard Sirius's distinctive voice demanding in a whisper, "It says he's here?"

"In that alcove," James's voice answered. "I think. The map's not very accurate here because the measurements are all wonky."

"Moony?"

And there was that scent – the right one this time – filling his nostrils as a hand reached into the shadows for him. "Oh Merlin! James, help me!"

Then there were four hands and he was being pulled out into the dim light of the corridor and Sirius was there holding him up looking worried and frightened and furious, and James was just a floating head because his invisibility cloak was still around his shoulders.

"_Finite Incantatum!_"

Now he could move again. All his limbs just sagged and his body pounded with pain. Remus couldn't say a word. He closed his dry eyes and burrowed his face into Sirius's chest, shivering violently with the cold.

"Oh, Remus, Remus!" Sirius whispered, wrapping his arms around him and rocking him gently. "I'm sorry, babe. I'm sorry we didn't come earlier. We thought you were in the library and then it got past curfew and we were worried, so we looked at the map and saw you here."

Remus couldn't bring himself to answer. All he could think about was pain and cold and the fact that Sirius and James were here to rescue him and he just wanted to be somewhere _warm _with healing potions and soft beds and Sirius beside him…

"Come on," James said nervously. "Let's get back to the Tower. Unless you want the hospital wing?"

Remus shook his head violently, his face still buried against Sirius's chest.

"Thought not. I'll scout ahead with the cloak. We can't all fit under. Sirius, cast a lightening charm on him. He looks all beaten up so you'll have to carry him."

Remus felt a fizzing sensation run through his pain-throbbing body as Sirius muttered the charm. Then Sirius stood up easily with Remus in his arms and waited in the corridor as James pulled the cloak over his head and hurried ahead to check the coast was clear.

Remus wound his arms around Sirius's neck and clung on, still shivering so hard his teeth rattled. His sensitive ears suddenly picked up the sound of footsteps coming from behind Sirius. He lifted his head and peered over Sirius's shoulder with alarm. Then he smelled who it was and relaxed a little.

Regulus appeared almost silently round the corner. He stopped when he saw Sirius standing with his back to him in the middle of the corridor with Remus in his arms. He met Remus's eyes and took a nervous step back. Remus felt a new rush of pity for the boy, and instead of alerting Sirius, he lifted one hand painfully off Sirius's back and gave Regulus a wry, shivery salute.

Regulus hesitated, then gave a shy salute back before turning and disappearing around the corner again.

"Alright, Moony?" Sirius whispered, glancing over his shoulder and just missing seeing Regulus's disappearing figure.

Remus couldn't help whimpering as Sirius's movement sent jolts of pain through his body. He turned his face into Sirius's neck and closed his eyes.

"We'll get you back soon," Sirius assured him. "I got you, I won't let go."

"_I got you to love me so…_" Remus sang the next line of the song in a muffled, raspy voice without moving his face away from Sirius' neck.

There was silence for a moment before Sirius quietly said; "Yes, you do. I love you, Remus."

For a moment Remus forgot the pain and the cold and everything except the way the whole world seemed to light up with those words. "I love you, too," he whispered, his voice little more than a croak.

Sirius's arms tightened a little and he dropped a light kiss into Remus's hair, just above his temple.

"Okay, lads!" James voice floated down the corridor. "Hurry up! It's all clear out of the dungeons."

They had to cast the lightening charm again halfway back to the Gryffindor Tower. It was amazing how long it took when James had to go on ahead at every new corner, but eventually, they were climbing through the portrait hole and into a mercifully empty common room.

"Finally!" Peter exclaimed as they entered the dorm. "I was worried sick. We _have _to get a bigger invisibility cloak. It's not right having to leave someone behind all the time. Oh my God! What happened to Moony?"

Sirius ignored Peter's chattering and gently laid Remus on his bed. "Will someone get his healing potions out of his trunk?"

James and Peter hurried to obey, pulling out bandages and bottles which they placed on Remus's bed.

"Moony, can I take your top off?" Sirius asked him quietly.

Remus's gaze flicked to where James and Peter stood watching.

"We'll go if you like," James said. "We won't look."

"It's okay," Remus croaked. "You'll have to see some time. And I think Sirius might need help with healing charms if you wouldn't mind."

"Of course not."

"Who was it?" Sirius demanded, gently removing Remus's school robes, then starting to unbutton his shirt.

Remus thought of the desperation on Regulus's face as the others threatened him. "Just Malfoy, Bellatrix, Nott and some others. I wasn't really concentrating on faces."

Sirius pulled his shirt open and there were three horrified gasps from Remus's friends. Remus struggled to raise his head and looked down. His body was just one huge bruise; mottled red, purple and blue and flaring from both his sides and stomach and up over his chest. His scars – no matter how much healing he underwent there would always be the some scars – stood out lividly against his bruised flesh. He could only be glad that the silver-burn scars were only faint silvery lines thanks to Madame Pomfrey's potion.

"Bloody hell, Moony," James murmured, unable to take his eyes off Remus's damaged torso. "How have you _not _gone feral and crazy and killed off the world for doing this to you?"

Remus couldn't answer that one. He couldn't put it into words.

"He feels ashamed that he was weak enough to let them do it to him," Sirius said, his voice betraying just how disapproving he was of this view. "He doesn't blame the world, he blames himself."

Remus scowled at Sirius who looked unaffected. "What? It's true. That _is _your warped view of the world." He reached for a bruise-healing potion and poured some into his hands.

"You're the strongest person I know, Moony," Peter said, his voice unusually serious and quiet.

Sirius began to massage the potion gently into Remus's bruised sides. Coolness rushed through him and the constant throbbing, shooting pain began to ease. Unable to help himself he uttered a little wolf-like whine of appreciation.

"Don't you dare let this situation get all sexy," James warned. "Wormtail and I offered to go."

"I'm not feeling sexy," Remus assured him, feeling more able to speak now that the healing potion had kicked in. "Just very appreciative that the pain is going. Merlin, that feels good!"

As he watched, his whole torso tingling, the bruises shrank and began to fade. There were areas of his body that had been so badly beaten that the skin had broken open. Sirius pulled out his wand and aimed it at one of these wounds. "Help me, Prongs. You know these charms are easier with two people."

While Remus and Peter watched, James and Sirius began muttering the long, lyrical chant that healed broken skin. Madame Pomfrey's spells worked more effectively, but James and Sirius were competent enough. The wounds closed slowly, turning to scars until even the scars began to fade.

"Cool," Peter said. "I wish I could do that."

"We did try to teach you," James reminded him, tilting his head as he examined the now-healed area of skin.

"'Try' being the operative word," Sirius added dryly.

"I know," Peter said. "I have no idea how I'm going to pull off being animagus."

"You will," Remus assured him. "I know you will."

"How are your legs?" Sirius asked.

"Just bruised," Remus said. "No broken skin, I think. They were mainly aiming for my torso."

"How on earth did you survive that bite?" James asked, his eyes on the original bite scar that twisted its way over Remus's right shoulder and down part of his chest.

Remus covered the scar with a defensive hand. He really _hated _his body. "I don't really remember. I don't remember it being as painful as my first full moon was."

"Transforming is sorer than that?" Peter asked weakly.

"Of course it is," Remus said. "I thought you guys read the books. It's not like an animagus transformation. My bones crack, my flesh melts, my organs pull out of shape, my mind it taken over by a raving monster. There is _nothing _in the world as painful as that."

"How do you do it?" James asked, looking at a loss. "Every month of your life?"

"I don't exactly have loads of options," Remus reminded him. "Though during my first few moons I used to pray to the moon shadows to let me die before the moon rose so I wouldn't have to feel it."

"I'm so glad you didn't," Sirius said, his voice cracking.

"Me too," Remus assured him.

"Well," James said, his voice determinedly cheerful. "Since I don't plan on sitting here and watching as Sirius rubs healing potion onto your thighs, I think I'll go have a shower now."

"I think I'll go as well," Peter said quickly. "Please close the curtains."

Sirius grinned and obediently closed the curtains round Remus's bed. "So Moony," he said. "Do I have your permission to rub healing potion onto your thighs?"

"_And put up a silencing charm!_" Peter yelled.

Remus smiled back shyly as Sirius laughed and muttered the charm. "Okay."

His heart rate increased rapidly as Sirius reached down and undid his trousers. All thoughts of sexiness disappeared, though, when Sirius gently began tugging them off and the pain from numerous bruises flared. "Owowow!" he moaned as Sirius pulled off his shoes and then tugged the trousers over his feet.

"Bloody hell, Remus. They really did a number on you," Sirius said, eyeing the battered skin of Remus's legs. "You just give me ten minutes, some parchment and ink, and a couple of owls and I'll have some hired killers set on them in no time at all."

"Don't you dare," Remus said, propping himself up gingerly on his elbows. "Just give me some damn potion."

Sirius picked up the bottle of bruise potion again and poured it into his hand. He began gently smoothing it over Remus's bruises, starting low on his shins and working his way up. Coolness and pain relief flooded through Remus as he felt his tense muscles relax under the tender administrations. It was only when Sirius reached his thighs that he realised what they might be getting themselves into. He felt he should say something.

"Er…the pain is going," he tried.

"Good. That's the idea," Sirius said.

"When the pain goes, other parts of my body are going to kick in," Remus told him, abandoning all hope of subtlety. It was something that often went over both James's and Sirius's heads.

"Parts of mine already have," Sirius said with a wink. "You're just too sexy lying there all naked –"

"Mostly naked!" Remus interrupted quickly.

"Fine, _mostly _naked."

"Yeah, but…" Remus hesitated. "Do you even know what you're doing? You know – if we ever wanted to – you know…"

"Um…" Sirius paused for a moment. "Raise chickens? Start a band?"

"_What?_"

"It was just something Evans said. Listen, I'm sure we'll figure it out as we go. Or you could get a book. I might even read it. Especially if it has diagrams."

Remus was flushing furiously and drew his knees up to hide the fact that certain parts of his body were, indeed, taking an interest.

"Aw, come on Moony!" Sirius complained. "I spend all this time massaging oil –"

"Healing potion!"

"Fine, _healing potion_ into your legs, and you're not even going to let me see if I had any effect on your libido?"

"You have," Remus said, blushing even more.

"Let's see then."

"No!"

"Why?"

"Because you're fully clothed and I'm tired and we're both only fifteen."

"I'll take my clothes off."

"Sirius!"

"Fine," Sirius huffed, then he grinned and ran a hand through Remus's hair. "I'll turn around so you can get your pyjamas on without me sneaking a look at your –"

"Shut up!"

Sirius turned his back, sniggering.

"It's gone down now, anyway," Remus told him.

"Bet it hasn't."

"Just because _yours _hasn't."

"How d'you know? Did you sneak a look, you kinky werewolf?"

Remus growled at him as he struggled into his pyjamas.

"Like that's going to turn me off," Sirius commented.

Remus ignored him and slid under the covers. "Okay, you can look again."

Sirius turned back and smiled. He reached out to run his fingers down the side of Remus's face. "Can I kiss you?"

"Of course you can. I'm just not ready for –"

"I know. Nor am I, really. I was just teasing you because you look so hot when you're all turned on and blushing."

"No comment."

Sirius leaned forward and kissed him and Remus felt the last of the cold and pain dissolve in that warmth. He felt content and protected and the air around them seemed to be fizzing gently as Sirius's lips traced a hot line from the corner of Remus's mouth to the curve of his neck. Then back up to his temple.

"Love you!" Remus whispered, his voice breathless. "Love you love you love you…" Then Sirius's mouth found his own again and Remus kissed him back hungrily, sending white-hot threads of desire sparking right through them both. A long time later, Sirius pressed a last kiss to Remus's temple and then just lay down beside him, wrapping his arms around him and drawing him close.

"You wonderful, perfect, amazing, darling thing," he murmured into Remus's ear. "If nothing else good ever happens to me, I'd be happy with what I have."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus was the only one of the Marauders to take Arithmancy. Peter had taken one look at the calculations involved and bolted, and James and Sirius didn't have the patience required to do the extensive calculations. They preferred quick, intricate spells that had a immediate effect.

As a result, Remus made his way on his own towards the Great Hall the next day after his lesson. He slowed down, though, as he noticed the vast majority of students were heading out the main door rather than towards to the food. Since most of the Hogwarts population was made up of very hungry adolescents who would only miss lunch for some truly spectacular entertainment, Remus followed them.

A large crowd of students were clustered around the entrance of the school staring up. Remus followed their gazes and felt his heart sink when he saw what they were staring at. Hoisted up into the air by their ankles and suspended there by a spell, were four Slytherins. Malfoy, Nott, Bellatrix and Lestrange were looking scarlet with a mixture of embarrassment, fury and the fact that the position they were trapped in meant that all their blood was rushing to their heads. Remus couldn't blame them. Their clothes had been transfigured into belly dancing outfits involving grass skirts, sequins and about four square inches of fabric between them. Their pale, aristocratic skin was dotted with goose bumps in the cool air and they were shrieking at the students below them to get a professor to help them down.

Remus scented Sirius and Peter coming up behind him under the invisibility cloak.

"I don't even have to ask if you're responsible," he said quietly, without turning around.

"They hurt you," Sirius said, as though that explained everything. To him, it probably did.

"You're lowering yourself to their level," Remus told him, trying to feel angry like he knew he should.

"No, we're not!" Sirius sounded genuinely hurt. "We didn't injure them. We never put them in danger. We only embarrassed them. If we hadn't found you last night you might have died of hyperthermia."

"They deserve it, Moony," Peter added.

Remus sighed. "You're going to get into trouble."

"They have no proof it was us."

Suddenly, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick came tearing down the main stairs and stared up at the trapped Slytherins with horror. As Flitwick began to cast spells to bring them down and restore their robes, Professor McGonagall hustled the crowd of watching students back inside. As Remus passed she grabbed his arm.

"Are you responsible for this?" she demanded.

"No!" Remus gave her an indignant look. "I knew _nothing _about it. I swear!"

"And your friends?"

"I told you – I don't know anything! I have no idea how they got up there."

She eyed him suspiciously. "This looks like the work of Mr. Potter and Mr. Black."

"It's not always them, you know," Remus said defensively. "Why do you assume it's always them?"

"Because it nearly always is."

Remus stood stiffly in front of her without saying anything until Professor McGonagall sighed and nodded towards the doors. "Go and get your lunch."

He hurried away, sensing Sirius and Peter right behind him. He veered into the boys toilets along the corridor, checked it was empty, then folded his arms and eyed the air meaningfully where he sensed the boys to be. Sirius and Peter emerged sheepishly from under the cloak.

"Sorry, Moony," Peter said. "We didn't know you'd get grilled for it."

Remus sighed. "Let's just go to lunch."

"Really, we _are _sorry," Sirius said.

"I know, I know. You just don't think sometimes. Where's James?"

"In detention. For practicing that ankle-levitation charm on darling Snivellus."

"On Snape?" Remus glared at them. "But he wasn't even there last night!"

Sirius and Peter avoided his eyes and stared at their feet. "Sorry, Moony."

Remus turned his back, ready to stalk to the door, but Sirius grabbed his arm and pulled him into a hug. Remus struggled for a few seconds, then gave up and relaxed against Sirius's chest. "Sorry, babe," Sirius murmured again. Remus, of course, could never resist him when he called him that.

"It's okay. Just..._think_ next time."

Sirius dropped a quick kiss onto his cheek and released him. They turned to find Peter watching them, looking Gryffindor scarlet with embarrassment. "You're properly…together," he said, looking as though it was a new development that he was struggling with. Remus supposed that it was. He and Sirius usually avoided any shows of public affection, even in front of James and Peter. They weren't entirely sure how far their friends' open-mindedness would go.

"I thought you knew that," Sirius said defensively.

"I know but…" Peter shrugged. "I guess I didn't actually picture you guys…you know… doing anything."

"Well good," Sirius said. "If you had, it would be fairly disturbing."

"You know what I mean."

"Does it upset you?" Remus asked hesitantly.

"Well…no. It's kind of weird, but at the same time it seems sort of normal. Like – _right_. Because you two…fit together, you know?"

Remus smiled. "Thanks, Wormtail."

"I'm glad for you," Peter said. "It's weird that you're ..you know…both blokes, but I am glad. Especially for Moony. Sirius could get anyone he wanted, but I know that Remus was always afraid about how they would react if they found out about his furry little problem. Being with Sirius solves all your problems, huh?"

"Yeah," Remus agreed wryly. "But it also creates a whole lot of new ones. It's like extreme dating. You never know when you're going to be called upon to beat up guys in dark alleys or steal illegal potions ingredients, or explain away a gang of Slytherins dressed in grass skirts and suspended by their ankles over the entrance of the school."

"Hardly any of those things were entirely my fault," Sirius said, a shade indignantly. "The others helped."

"This is true," Remus agreed. Then he smiled. "I wouldn't change it for anything."


	47. Mohawks and Furry Ears

**Disclaimer: Same as always – Only the bits you don't recognise from JK Rowling's books are mine.**

_"Real magic can never be made by offering someone else's liver. You must tear out your own, and not expect to get it back." _

_(Peter S. Beagle - 'The Last Unicorn')_

**SIRIUS:**

"But _why_ would you do that, Mr. Black?" Professor McGonagall said, her voice rising in exasperation.

"I couldn't help it!" Sirius explained for the fourth time. "They were just hanging round looking all Slytheriny. You can't tell me you wouldn't have done the same in my position."

"You will be amazed to hear that I manage to go whole _weeks _without charming dungeon gargoyles to follow Slytherins round belching the word, 'loser', at irregular intervals." Professor McGonagall sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose as Sirius stood in front of her desk fidgeting. "That will be ten house points from Gryffindor and detention with Mr. Filch tomorrow evening. And would you please explain to me why your have a red and gold stripy mohawk which – I hasten to add – is against all Hogwarts hair regulations?"

"It's in house colours."

"I don't care, Mr. Black. You will remove it immediately."

"I can't," Sirius told her. "I lost poker against James and this was the loser's prize. He put the charm on me and I don't know how to take it off."

"Tell him to remove it. And if he refuses, I'm sure Mr. Lupin will be aware of the correct counter-charm. Next time I see you, I want your hair to be back to normal. Now off you go, and if I hear of any more Slytherin baiting from you or Mr. Potter, I will be forced to send you to the headmaster."

Sirius hurried away and headed down the corridor in the direction of the tiny secret room where they had brewed the house-animal potion in second year. It was once again being put to service as a potions lab, this time for the Animagus potion.

"Where've you been?" James demanded, as Sirius sidled in through the secret door behind the goblin statue. "I've been having to get Moony and Wormtail to do the cutting of ingredients and had to prevent imminent explosions three times."

"It's not our fault we're rubbish at potions," said Peter, who did look rather sooty round the edges. He and Remus were sitting in front of chopping boards on the floor, surrounded by potions ingredients.

"Had a run in with our darling Head of House," Sirius said, crouching on the floor and peering into the cauldron in front of James. "Over that gargoyle prank."

"Didn't the spell wear off the gargoyle after half an hour?" Remus asked. "It should have, according to that book I was reading."

"Nope," Sirius said. "Apparently it's been following them around all day."

"Odd."

"Your hair really looks dreadful, mate," Peter said, glancing up from slicing snake root and catching sight of Sirius in the dim light of the cauldron fire and Remus's wand, which had replaced the quill he had taken to storing behind his ear.

"McGonagall didn't like it either," Sirius agreed. "She told me to make James take it off."

"Not a chance, Padfoot," James said, stirring the cauldron three times clockwise, then once counter clockwise and tilting his head to the side to examine the effect. "You lost the game."

"But I'll get another detention," Sirius whined. "I already have one with Filch tomorrow evening and I heard he's been making people scrub the trophy room by hand. You'd better add the snake root, by the way. It's about to explode."

"I _know_," James said, grabbing the board from Peter and tipping it in. "I _can _make potions, you know."

"Come here, you idiot," Remus said, motioning Sirius over to his side. Sirius obediently shuffled over, unable to stand because the ceiling of the little stone room was so low. Remus drew his wand from behind his ear and gave it a complicated wiggle, muttering under his breath. Sirius felt a tingling on his head, then his hair relaxed and dropped once more into his eyes, fading to black as it did so.

"Moony, you're a genius!" Sirius shook the hair out of his eyes. "Why didn't you do it before?"

"I thought you deserved to suffer a bit for charming that gargoyle to follow round those poor Slytherins." Remus reached out and finger-combed Sirius's hair. "You need to comb it, though. Looks a bit like James's at the moment."

"Oh no - fix it, fix it!" Sirius looked gave Remus a pleading look.

"Hey!" James said. "There's nothing wrong with my hair. It's got that sexy just-got-off-a-broomstick look."

"We really don't want to know how you just got off on a broomstick," Sirius said. "I mean I know you love Quidditch, but there really are limits. What would Evans say?"

"She'd probably feel sorry for the broomstick," Remus said, kneeling up to fix Sirius's hair.

"I will not dignify that with a comment," James said, putting his nose in the air. "I don't know why I stay friends with you lot."

"No one else would have you, mate, Siris said. "How's the potion coming along?"

"Okay. It should be done by the beginning of June. We can dose ourselves up before the end of term, then practice the actual transformation over the summer."

"Just think, Moony," Peter said. "Next year you won't have to be on your own."

"I know. I can't wait," Remus sounded so wistful that Sirius couldn't resist putting his arms around his waist and hugging him, his cheek resting against Remus's stomach because the other boy was still kneeling above him, fixing his hair.

"Do you mind?" James asked, wrinkling his nose.

"You deserve it," Remus told him. "I'll never be able to look at a broomstick the same way again."

"I did _not _get off on a broomstick."

"The first step to overcoming a problem is to admit that you have one."

"I do _not _have a problem. I do _not _find broomsticks sexually attractive in any way."

Sirius shook his head. "He has a long way to go," he said to Remus, his expression mournful.

"""

In spite of other personality flaws that his fellow Marauders were quick to point out to him, James was actually very good at potions, and as a result, his estimate of the potion's finishing date was accurate. It was the first week in June and it was turning out to be a very good one. Gryffindor's victory over Ravenclaw ensured them second place for the house cup, rather than last as it had been for five previous years, and resulted in a wild party in the Common Room involving four crates of butterbeer, two bottles of stolen fire whiskey, Remus's new and altered tape-player and severe hangovers the next morning.

Three days later, the Marauders were all sitting in a circle on the floor of their silence-charmed dorm with three vials of Animagus potion in the centre.

"I feel a bit sick," Peter said, looking at the vials.

"You don't have to do this," Remus told them. "I would rather you didn't, actually. Do you know the list of possible negative side effects in the book was twelve pages long?"

"Nothing's going to go wrong," James assured him. "The potion is perfect."

"That's not the bit I'm worried about. I'm worried about the bit where you grab at your magic blindly with your minds and force your body to transfigure into a shape it's not designed to be."

Sirius reached out and squeezed his hand. "If you think I'm backing out now that we've got this far, you're insane."

"But – "

Sirius reached out, grabbed a vial and downed it in one gulp. He felt a fiery heat fill his body, starting at his stomach and racing through his veins, down his arms and legs until even his toes and fingers were tingling. Suddenly, something bowled him over and he felt preternaturally strong fingers prying his jaw open while another hand pressed his stomach roughly.

"_Spit it out! Spit it out!_" Remus was screaming.

"I swallowed it," Sirius gasped, his eyes watering with a mixture of the heat and the pain of Remus's fist in his stomach.

"_Then puke it up!_" He forced his fingers into Sirius's mouth and Sirius felt them searching for his gag reflex.

"Moony, get off him!" Sirius was aware of James grabbing Remus's hand and yankin it out of his mouth with all hs strngth as Sirius crouched on the floor and dry-retched.

"What the _hell _do you think you're _doing_?" James yelled at Remus, as he pulled him off Sirius and shook him roughly.

"I don't want you to do it!" Remus wailed, batting at James's hands. "I can't lose you! I can't lose Sirius!"

Sirius watched through watering eyes as James relaxed his grip a little and Remus covered his face with his hands, his nails digging gouges into the sensitive skin of his cheeks and forehead.

"Oh, Moony," Sirius crawled forward and pulled Remus away from James and into his arms. He pried the werewolf's hands away from his face. "I'm fine. Look, Remus, I'm fine."

Remus sagged against him and turned his face so it pressed against his chest. "Don't do it, don't do it," he begged, his voice muffled by Sirius's robe. "_P__lease_ don't do it. I can't l-l-l-lose you. I can't lose you."

"It's too late," Sirius whispered. "It's in my system."

"Ours too," Peter said quietly.

Sirius glanced up to see James and Peter setting down empty vials. Remus seemed to sag even more, letting out a soft, keening, canine noise that tore at Sirius's heart.

"It'll be fine, Moony," Peter added. "We're the Marauders."

"It'll just take practise," James said. "Like the meditation we did before. You just have to centre yourself and concentrate on your inner animal. The potion was the hard part. It might take a few months to get right, but we have the whole summer. Then you won't have to be alone every full moon. Don't you want that?"

Remus sniffed and hung his head. "Sorry I attacked you, Padfoot."

"It's okay, no harm done." Sirius touched his bruised stomach. "Well, no serious harm done anyway."

"Sorry."

"Stop saying sorry. If you'd taken a dodgy, dangerous potion I probably would have done a lot worse."

Remus gave a hiccough, though Sirius couldn't tell whether it was a sob or an attempt at a laugh. He pulled away from Sirius and sat up, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"This is it, lads," James said. "The change potion is in our systems. All we have to do it use our magic to trigger it."

"We can't try that for a week," Sirius reminded him. "We have to leave a week for the potion to settle in."

"A week's not long enough," Remus muttered.

"""

Much to Sirius's, James's and Peter's disappointment, the task of actually changing into an animal turned out to be much harder than they had anticipated. In the weeks leading up to the summer holidays, they spent hours a day in meditation, and so far, all they had managed to achieve was one set of antlers, one matching set of black tail and ears, three rat's whiskers and some rather severe headaches.

Remus - after one or two rather panicked moments - had realised that, although his friends had great difficulty changing _into _the animals, they had no problems changing back. As a result, he watched their efforts with a mixture of resignation, sympathy and –more often – amusement.

"It's not _funny_," Sirius said, the day before the summer holidays, when he had once again ended up with only a long, black tail and dog-like ears after an hour's meditation. He and Remus were up in the dorm, supposedly packing, though currently the werewolf was sitting beside his half-full trunk shaking with suppressed laughter.

"It is a bit funny," said Remus, taking a deep breath and managing to compose himself. "Your ears kind of change shape and then shift to the top of your head like a dog's but then you don't follow through and it just stops there."

"I get really dizzy," Sirius told him, feeling a little defensive. He wasn't used to having to work this hard for things and it was grating on his nerves. "And then I lose concentration before I'm properly changed. It's easy to do ears and tail now. It's like – once you've done it, it's easy to do it again. It's the doing-it-once that's the problem. How do you break through the dizzy barrier to change all the way?"

"I've found that standing under the full moon and screaming in agony generally does it for me," Remus offered.

Sirius frowned and flung himself back on his bed, staring up at the drapes above him. "I'm going to get this right and help you."

"Don't stress," Remus said, standing up and going to sit on the bed beside Sirius. "You'll get it. I know you will." He reached up and stroked his hand over one of the pointed dog-ears that were nestled in Sirius's hair. "They're really soft," he added. "I wonder if the rest of you will be soft, too?"

Sirius couldn't help leaning into the caress. He suddenly realised why dogs always wanted their ears scratched. It felt wonderful. Remus gave a little laugh. "You're such a dog."

"Doesn't Moony like his ears being scratched?"

Remus shrugged. "Who knows? If anyone tried, Moony would eat them before they had a chance to get anywhere near our ears."

"Do you even know what wolfy-you looks like?" Sirius asked.

Remus shifted a little uncertainly. "No. Moony never really goes looking for mirrors, oddly enough. He spends most of the time trying to fight his way out, craving blood and tearing things up."

"So…no one has ever seen you in your wolf form? Not even you?" For some reason, the idea struck Sirius and as incredibly sad.

Without looking at Sirius, Remus shook his head, though he didn't move his fingers that were still gently stroking Sirius's ears. "There is this …event. Werewolves call it 'Blood Moon'. I think there's one in our sixth or seventh year. I read about it in one of those books James brought for me from his house. It's the only book on lycanthropy that was ever written by a werewolf, so it was quite fascinating. He lived in a pack with other werewolves up in the French Alps. They lived far away from civilization so they could run free without hurting anyone." Remus's expression was very wistful.

"Blood Moon?" Sirius narrowed his eyes. "That sounds painful."

"No, no. It's just a name for the full moon eclipse. When the shadow of the earth eclipses the full moon, the moon turns red. It looks like a red ball hanging in the sky. It only happens once every hundred years or so. According to Amadeus – the author of the book – there is a werewolf legend about it.

"Apparently, thousands of years ago, when Merlin was still alive, there was a pack of feral werewolves that went on the rampage and killed a whole town of people on full moon night. In those days, werewolves were instantly recognisable because even when they were human, their eyes remain bright golden and seemed to glow. After that terrible night, people everywhere set out to hunt werewolves and slaughter them wherever they found them.

"The werewolves were desperate. The actions of one pack meant that the lives of others – who had lived peacefully among humans and locked themselves away for transformations – were in danger. The slaughter spread from England and across Europe as people – many of whom had never liked werewolves anyway – took this opportunity to slaughter those they saw as monsters in human skin.

"Some of the werewolves went to Merlin to beg him for help. He told them that they had to carry out ten thousand good deeds and he would grant their request. They spread the word, and everywhere, werewolves began to seek out good deeds to be done. Their superior strength helped them out a lot. They rebuilt towns, rescued people who were in danger, slayed dragons and a few of them even took in orphan children, who had no one else to care for them.

"Of course, the ordinary people only saw unnatural monsters and the killing didn't stop. There is a story of one werewolf who swam to a sinking ship to rescue a child and when he arrived on shore, the father took the child from him, then stabbed him in the heart with a silver knife.

"Throughout Europe, thousands of good deeds were carried out and thousands more werewolves were killed. When Merlin saw what was happening, he was furious. He created a powerful spell that reached out to werewolves through their shared blood and it changed the colour of their eyes, so that they remained their original human shade unless the wolf within was near the surface. In this way, the werewolves could hide unknown and unseen in the human population.

"He knew this spell wasn't enough to make up for the damage done, so he called as many werewolves to him as he could reach and asked them what he could do as a reward for their good deeds and as a consolation for their slaughtered brothers and sisters. Every werewolf there knew what made them suffer the most, and as one, they begged Merlin to allow them to keep their minds during the transformation.

"Merlin sought desperately for a way to carry out their wishes and failed. The ingredients available to him in England and across Europe were too limited to invent a potion and one person's magic was not enough to alter the genes of a whole species. So instead, he did the only thing he could think of. He took the blood of ten thousand of the slaughtered werewolves and created another new spell. It took so much of his power that he could not walk for two years. He created Blood Moon. The sacrifices of those ten thousand werewolves would not be in vain. Their blood would stain the moon – blotting out its full light - so that for that single night over the full moon eclipse, the instant the first shadow crossed the edge of the moon and stained it red, every werewolf under that moon would regain his human mind for that time."

Sirius was very quiet as Remus finished his story. It was a lot to take in – the knowledge that the prejudice against Remus's kind had been going on for so long. What would happen if people began slaughtering werewolves again in modern times? How would he be able to protect Remus from them? If people were actively _looking _for werewolves, many of the more intelligent pupils in the school would be able to work out from Remus's regular 'illnesses' just what he was.

"Padfoot?" Remus ran his fingers through Sirius's hair and over his ears again. "I didn't tell you the story to make you unhappy. I told it to you so you can realise what I can experience on the night of Blood Moon in a few years time."

Slowly, the reason why Remus had told him the story dawned on Sirius's troubled mind again. "You'll be able to be _you_ in Moony's body for a night?" he whispered.

"Yes." Remus's eyes seemed to glow – not with the golden light of a werewolf – but with the soft inner radiance of someone faced with something too wonderful to express in words. "Won't that be incredible? It would only be for a few hours as the shadow passes over the moon and then leaves again, but imagine what it will be like! I can see what I look like. I can run outside and not be afraid of hurting someone. I will have my own mind…"

"Oh Remus," Sirius sat up and drew Remus to him, kissing him soundly on the lips. He felt so warm and slim and strong. He smelt like autumn and pine needles and he tasted like chocolate he'd eaten for dessert that evening. Everything about Remus was an exquisite barrage on his senses.

Remus smiled, tilting his head to give Sirius access to his neck. Sirius knew the werewolf loved it when he kissed his neck, and Sirius adored the taste of Remus so he wasn't complaining. He lapped and sucked gently at the sensitive skin just above Remus's collarbone and Remus hummed in enjoyment, the sound sending hot shivers threading in electric waves through Sirius's body. After a while, Sirius groaned and shifted away.

"What's wrong?"

"Bloody tail," Sirius said. "I'm sitting on it and it's very uncomfortable."

Remus laughed and reached out to give said tail a gentle tug. "It'll probably be more comfortable when it's on the correct type of body. Get rid of it and kiss me again."

"Yes, sir! Right away, sir!" Sirius teased, before frowning in concentration and feeling the tail disappear and the ears returning to their human form. Then Remus let out a groan of his own.

"What now?" Sirius asked.

Remus glanced towards the door and after a few seconds Sirius heard footsteps approaching and James burst in, stopping when he spotted Remus and Sirius sitting close together on the bed together. He screwed up his face. "Gross."

"What?" Remus said defensively.

"I just walked in on you two making out."

"We weren't!"

"Moony, you have a hickey on your neck that definitely wasn't there this morning, _and _I can't think of any other reason why you two would be treating me to such a death glare. I've been quite good lately."

"Well?" said Sirius. "Go on out if you don't want to watch, 'cause on the count of three, we're going to start snogging again."

"Don't you _dare_." James went to his trunk and opened it. "Some of us have to pack." He glanced at the area around Sirius's bed which was strewn with his belongings. "'Us' including you as well, Padfoot."

"You can't fault the man's reasoning," Remus said reluctantly. "I'd better go find Wormtail as well. I don't think a single thing he owns is actually in his trunk. I saw one of his socks hanging over the edge of the portrait hole when I came in earlier."

"You think that's bad?" said Sirius. "I saw his 'I heart Honeydukes' underpants in the kitchen when I went down there earlier. I don't even _want _to know how they got there."

"_I _don't want to know how _you_ know that he owns a pair of 'I heart Honeydukes' underpants," Remus answered.


	48. SUMMER HOLIDAYS FOURTH YEAR

_Worry, doubt, fear and despair are the enemies which slowly bring us down to the ground and turn us to dust before we die. _

_(Attributed to Douglas MacArthur)_

**REMUS:**

"Remus, love? We have to go now."

Remus barely heard Angela as he stood beside his trunk on the station the next day and watched as Sirius joined his family. At school, Sirius, along with James, seemed like one of the most alive and vibrant people that Remus knew. Now, however, everything about him seemed to shrink as he dragged his trunk up to where his mother and brother waited for him.

Walburga Black was a tall, waxen woman who still had the fading remnants of a beauty that must have been similar to Bellatrix's in her youth. Even these remnants disappeared, though, when she caught sight of her oldest son standing forlornly beside Regulus. Her face twisted and she muttered something to him that caused Sirius's shoulders to hunch defensively in a way that Remus knew intimately, having used that same action many times himself.

"Remus?"

This time, Angela put her hand on his arm and Remus gave his head a little shake and glanced at her. "I'm sorry. What?"

"Are you okay? I know your…change…is only a couple days away. Let's get you home."

Remus glanced towards the Black family again, only to see the three dark heads disappearing into the floo station that joined platform nine and three quarters. His stomach twisted painfully and he had to force himself not to run after them and drag Sirius away.

"Come on, lad," Neil said, giving Remus a gentle push in the direction of the barrier to the muggle station. He picked up Remus's trunk and Remus reluctantly followed him, Angela hovering protectively beside him.

"Hey, Moony!" Remus, who had been about to step through the barrier, glanced up as James raced over while his mother and father waited patiently by the door to the floo station. To his surprise, James pulled him into a quick, awkward hug. "I'll get him out as soon as I can. I promise." Then he pulled away, winked, and hurtled back to his parents, seemingly oblivious to the stares that followed him.

"What was that about?" Neil asked, as Remus blinked and smiled wryly. "Who will he get out of where?"

"Sirius." Remus turned and walked through the barrier, Angela and Neil following with confused expressions on their faces. "He goes and stays with the Potters when he can over the holidays. His doesn't get on with his parents and they lock him in the kitchen cellar a lot. I worry about him."

"Remus, love. You shouldn't worry," said Angela. "The Ministry would know if he was being treated too badly. It's not the same as what happened to you."

"The Ministry didn't know about me," Remus pointed out softly. "Seven years and no one came to check on me once. It took an ex-DADA teacher and three twelve-year-old boys to get me out of there. The Ministry don't know anything. And even if they did, do you seriously think they would be willing to take on the Black family?"

Angela opened her mouth, then closed it again and carried on walking. No one said a word as Neil heaved Remus's trunk into the boot of the car and they drove out of the station. After a while Angela quietly asked, "Is it really that bad?"

Remus sighed. "I really don't know. He doesn't talk about his family much if he can avoid it."

"I wish we could do something."

"You've already done so much good." Remus reached over the back of the passenger chair and squeezed her shoulder. "You took me in. You gave me a home. You couldn't have found a more high-maintenance son if you'd auditioned every student in Hogwarts."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus had known that the next full moon would be hard. He was away from the familiar territory of the Shrieking Shack, he was away from his pack, and – most of all – he was away from Sirius for the first time since the start of their new relationship.

Of course, he didn't remember much. He stood, trembling and naked, in the cellar of the Anders' house as the transformation gripped him. He screamed in agony as his flesh melted and his bones cracked; the sound of his cries sucked into silence by the charms that surrounded the room.

Rush of dark-red frustration – walls-walls-walls all around and the moon calling through them, promising blood. Unfamiliar place, unfamiliar smells – some human. Human…yes…bloodbloodbloodblood. Howling, tearing, pain and a wash of coppery liquid into his mouth.

Metallic, wet, burning pain. Savage streaks of it shooting in white hot waves through his body. Want. Want. Want blood. Want pack. Want mate. Want run. Want out. Wantwantwant. Tear again, bite again. More pain, more want.

Then suddenly moon is gone. Moony sucked back, but clinging on. Human fighting back. More pain – hotter, melting, cracking.

_PAINPAINPAIN_

Warm. Pain going. Human smell again, but no bloodlust. Soft bed. Potions that made him sneeze painfully. Pack? Where pack? Where Prongs? Where Wormtail? Where Padfoot? Where _Padfoot? PADFOOT! PADFOOT! _

"Who is 'Pa'foo', darling? Calm down. I'm here. Look, I'm here, Angela's here."

_PADFOOTPADFOOTPADFOOT! SIR'USSIR'US!_

"He's not here, love. We're here. Sirius isn't here."

Sobbing, begging. _Moony sorry, Moony sorry. Please – Padfoot. Please Sirius! Please pack! Please Padfoot..._

"He's not here, darling. I'm sorry, he's not here."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus stirred, but didn't open his eyes. His throat felt cracked and dry, his cheeks raw. His whole body ached and burned with the after-effects of his transformation. Slowly, Remus forced his eyes open. They were damp and sticky with what felt like drying tears.

His head was drooping to his right on the pillow, and from here, he could see out of his bedroom window. It was dark outside – the almost-full moon hovering malevolently in the sky.

"Remus, love? Are you back?"

Slowly, he turned his head to look dully at Angela who had been fussing with an array of potions on his desk, but was now hurrying over with an expression of unutterable relief on her face. Remus tried to smile.

"Oh Merlin! I was so worried!" Remus could see the effort it cost her not to scoop him up and hug him with relief. She reached out and ran a gentle hand through his hair instead, careful not to aggravate any of his injuries.

"How…long?" Remus forced out, his voice little more than a dry croak.

"Were you like a child?" Angela questioned.

Remus gave a stilted nod.

"The whole day. If you hadn't recovered in the next half hour, we were going to send for Madame Pomfrey." Her finger brushed his hair away from his damp forehead and tucked it behind his ear. "It was really bad, Remus."

Another jerky nod. "I knew…it would be. No pack. New place."

"It was worse than last holiday."

Remus glanced up at the new voice to see Neil standing in the doorway looking more relieved and wrung out than Remus had ever seen him. "Pack's stronger now," he explained, trying to use as few words as possible. "Every year we grow closer."

"That's very dangerous, Remus," Neil said. "You can't come to rely on them that much. They're only teenage boys. If they abandon you on some whim, it would destroy you."

Remus made a noise between a cough and a laugh, and then blanched as sharp pain needled through him. "Yes, it would," he agreed, his voice beginning to return a little. "Too late to turn back now. It was too late the moment they found me in the library in second year and offered to be my friends."

"You kept…" Angela swallowed and brushed her fingers through his hair again. It was the only part of his body she could touch without hurting him. "You kept…asking for Sirius we think. Sometimes you called him 'Pa'foo', but I think you meant him. You asked for the others as well – but mostly for him."

Remus could hear the question in her tone – the need for an explanation. He heard the hint of hurt envy in her voice that she had struggled to hide.

"He…" Remus wished his head was less fuzzy with pain and potions. He couldn't have this conversation now. "Sirius is the only one who holds me," he tried to explain, without giving too much away. "He doesn't get…embarrassed by physical contact. He will hold me when I need to be held. The others are a bit awkward. They try but…"

"It's okay, Remus," Neil said, sending Angela a look that Remus, in his current state, could not decipher.

"I'm sorry," Remus whispered.

"What for, lad?" Neil said, moving a little closer and reaching out to touch one of Remus's well-bandaged hands.

"You know…" Remus waved his fingers stiffly, trying to convey what he meant. "For this. For worrying you. For-for asking for the others when you're only trying to h-help me."

"Don't be silly," Angela said sternly. "None of this is your fault. You just lie there and get better and I'll bring you up something to eat."

Remus lay back, loving the comfort of his family, but unable to help some part of him, deep down, from wishing it was Sirius's fingers in his hair instead, Sirius's hand gently holding his. The guilt that accompanied this thought was almost more painful than his physical wounds.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Dear Moony,_

_How was your you-know-what? I wish more than anything I was there for you after the moon. I've had loads of extra time over the holidays as I don't like coming out my room. I've been practising becoming Padfoot. Not much success so far, sadly. _

_My mother had a portrait done of herself while we were at school. She hung it up in the hall with ever-lasting sticking charms. It's worse than she is, I swear. Every time I walk through the hall it starts yelling abuse at me. I plan on getting revenge, though. Remember those posters I bought at Christmas? The ones of the naked girls and the motorbikes? Well, I'm going to stick them all to my walls with the same charm she used for that bloody portrait. That'll show her! I'd rather have lots of naked Moonys on my wall, but even I'm not that suicidal. Plus I don't have any naked Moony pics…hint, hint. _

_Anyway, I hope you recovered okay. Are you able to come to James's in mid-August? My parents and darling Regulus are going to France then, so I'm sneaking off to the Potters. Until that day, I will be pining for your presence. _

_Oodles of love and post-moon-cuddles for mini-you,_

_Padfoot_

_PS: Isn't 'oodles' an awesome word? It reminds me of noodles and poodles and strudels and other things ending in 'oodles'…_

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Dear Sirius,_

_I am so, so glad to hear you'll be going to James's. Can't you go sooner than mid-August, though? I'm so worried about you being in that house with no one to protect you. _

_Don't you DARE stick up those posters. Who knows what your mother will do to you if she sees them. Please, please promise me you won't. As for the question of pictures of naked Moony…keep dreaming, you bad dog. Besides, would you really want your mother ogling my bits?_

_My 'you-know-what' was fine. Apparently I kept asking for you. I think Angela is a little jealous. I wish she wasn't. I really do love her and appreciate what she does for me. I suppose I should have told her about us so she didn't feel so bad, but I am just afraid about how she (and Neil) will react. _

_Anyway, wishing you oodles of noodles, poodles and strudels,_

_Love,_

_Moony _

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Padfoot? _

_It's been a week. Why didn't you write back? Are you okay? Please, please tell me you're just too busy sticking up posters to write. Or you've lost your quill. All your quills. And your ink. And forgotten how to write. Even tell me you're angry with me about something. I don't care! Just write back. _

_Love and worry,_

_Moony_

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Oh, Merlin, Sirius – Write back, write back, write back! Two weeks and no word from you. Please just write back. _

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Prongs, _

_Please, please tell me you've heard from Sirius. I can't take this anymore. It's been three weeks and I haven't heard from him. I feel sick with worry. We have to think of something. We just have to!_

_Moony_

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Moony, _

_I told you when you floo'd me – there's nothing we can do. I asked my Dad and he said the Black house is under a version of the Fidelius charm. The only people who can tell anyone where it is are immediate family members. And I bet they took that privilege away from Sirius a long time ago. Not even Aurors could get in- not that they would try. You know how prejudice they are against the Black family._

_I'm so, so sorry, Remus. I'm really worried as well. I can't sleep at night thinking about what he might be going through._

_Prongs_

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Dear Moony and Prongs,_

_I hope you've heard some news. I can't bear not knowing if he's okay. Please keep me updated. I know I told you never to floo me over summer because of my Muggle relatives, but if it's an emergency, just do. We can always obliviate them afterwards. I hope you hear something soon._

_Pete_

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Over a month, Padfoot. Merlin, the moon was bad with me worrying about you. Neil and Angela called Madame Pomfrey because I didn't recover my mind for a full day and night. This is the most horrible time I have ever lived through, but I can only imagine it's even worse for you. I don't even dare send this letter. I have no idea if they're even getting to you, and I don't want your family reading it. _

_Please, please be alright. I love you, I love you, I love you…_

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Dear Remus and Pete,_

_Dad and Mum are getting really worried. If we haven't heard from Sirius by tomorrow evening, Dad's going to the Ministry to report a case of suspected child abuse. It's going to be a big. Really big. Even bigger than yours, Moony. It's the Black family, and there's going to be an uproar from all the pureblood families. I don't know what to do anymore. This is the worst summer ever. _

_I hope you're both okay. How was your you-know-what, Moony? I can imagine it was bad. _

_James_

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_12 Grimmauld Place, London_

_Don't make me regret this, Lupin. Get in, get him, get out. I'm putting my whole family at risk. No Aurors. You have been warned. I have enclosed the letters you sent. Stop sending them. He's not getting them, and I only just stopped my mother from intercepting them. I haven't read them. You can see they're still sealed._

_We leave for France on the 16__th__ August. The house will be empty except for house elves. _

_Consider my debt to you for that day in the dungeons paid. _

_Regulus Black_


	49. Living Shadows

**Disclaimer: A new year, and I have STILL not managed to morph into JK Rowling over night. As a result, the world of Harry Potter is still not mine…**

_Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation_  
_Darkness wakes and stirs imagination_  
_Silently the senses abandon their defences_

_(Phantom of the Opera)_

**SIRIUS:**

It always amazed Sirius that – with only one look and four short words – his mother could completely demolish any sense of confidence and self worth he had built up over the school year. On the first day of the summer holidays, when Walburga Back met her two sons at Kings Cross station, those words were: "_Move_, blood-traitor brat!" The look was one generally reserved for the contents of a kneazel's litter tray after it has eaten a particularly dodgy mouse.

No matter how hard Sirius tried to retain his proud posture, he felt the weight of her disgust press heavily down on him, causing his spine to curve and his shoulders to hunch. What made it worse was that he could still feel Remus's worried gaze on him. Sirius had been so desperate to at least keep up appearances until he was out of sight of the other Marauders. There was no telling how bad Remus's transformation would be if he was already worrying about Sirius's home life.

He followed his mother and Regulus meekly to the floo station, and tried to avoid onlookers' eyes as Walburga stalked her way to the front of the queue and stepped into the nearest free fireplace, muttering under her breath to prevent any eavesdroppers from hearing the address to their well-warded house.

Regulus followed quickly and Sirius hurried after him; eager to escape the stares – some pitying, some worried and some loathing. He found himself forced to mouth the address almost silently as he flung down the floo powder, proving his suspicions about the fact that his parents had excluded him from the family's fidelius charm. No matter what happened, he would be completely unable to inform his friends about where he lived. A good thing, he mused, or he might - in a moment of weakness - write to James, begging him to come to the rescue, and as a result, putting him in serious danger. James knew the Black residence was in Grimmauld Place in London – something Sirius had mentioned before his parents had removed him as a secret keeper – but not the number. Without it, the house would be unreachable to him, and Sirius wasn't even sure if James would be able to tell anyone the small part of the address that he did know.

The green flames enveloped him and he spun through the floo, stopping abruptly in the living-room fireplace of his home at 12 Grimmauld Place. He was immediately confronted with the sight of the giant Black family tree tapestry on the wall opposite the fireplace. Sirius felt his face twist in loathing as his eyes found the burnt spot where Andromeda's name used to be. Stepping from the fireplace,Sirius dragged his trunk behind him and onto the hearthrug, glancing around apprehensively. His mother and Regulus had left to the room before he even arrived.

He hated this house with a passion that nearly frightened him. He hated its twisted, gothic furniture; all carved from the darkest wood. He hated the heavy velvet draperies and overly-intricate tapestries that graced the walls, making the house seem even gloomier than it would otherwise.

Sirius's spine tingled at the heavy, but familiar overtones of dark magic that seemed to permeate the air in Grimmauld Place. He longed to turn around and step back into the fire, spinning away to the bright, cheerful home of the Potters.

"Get to your room and stop cluttering up the lounge," a cold voice said from the doorway, making him jump. Sirius jerked his head towards the door and felt his eyebrows arch into his hairline in surprise as he saw his father standing there. Orion Black was very rarely at home, preferring to avoid his family in favour of the ever-changing pureblood politics of Europe. At the rare moments when Sirius had glimpsed him at home, Orion ignored his firstborn son with the same negligent arrogance with which he treated the house elves.

"Are you here for the summer?" Sirius asked, before he could stop himself.

Anger flared on Orion's face. "How dare you address me in such a manner, _Gryffindor blood traitor_?"

Sirius grimaced, hating the way that the word, 'Gryffindor' sounded like an insult coming from his father's mouth. It was hard to be proud of being a lion in a pit full of snakes.

"Are you here for the summer, _sir_?" he reiterated, completely unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. He cursed his inner Marauder as his father turned an even more impressive shade of non-Slytherin scarlet. Orion Black was a tall, aristocratic man with a neatly trimmed greying beard and grey eyes. He had been a handsome man in his youth, but like his wife, was going slightly to seed. The anger and revulsion now twisting his face only served to emphasise the fact that his pale skin looked waxen and lined, and his previously slim form was marred with a paunch that spoke of too much good European food and too little exercise.

"If you don't watch that mouth of yours, you'll go the same way your mudblood loving cousin went!" Orion gestured viciously towards the tapestry.

"I would, but my nose gets in the way," Sirius said. His common sense had retreated to some hidden corner of his mind and was currently bashing its head against the wall.

Before he could blink, he felt his breath knocked from his chest as his father sent a curse at him that slammed him back against the mantelpiece. His head jarred painfully against the mirror above the fireplace.

"If I wasn't leaving for France tomorrow evening, I would spend the summer teaching you respectable behaviour." Orion strode across the room to stand over Sirius who was blinking fuzzily from his impact with the mantelpiece. "As it is, I will leave the task to your mother. Now get to your room!"

Sirius's common sense took advantage of his momentary concussion and prevented Sirius from mockingly thanking his father for answering the question he had asked in the first place. He waited until Orion had left the room, before gingerly climbing to his feet. He swayed a little and reached up to feel the lump forming on the back of his head. His heart was hammering, though he couldn't have said if it was from fear, rage or hate.

Slowly, he made his way back over to his trunk and began to drag it from the room and into the hall, taking pleasure in the long scratch it left on the dark, polished floorboards. He stopped when he saw Regulus standing on the staircase leading up from the hallway.

"What are you looking at?" Sirius snapped, humiliated by the fact that his little brother had heard his exchange with their father. Regulus flinched.

"_Silence_, you mudblood-loving BLOOD TRAITOR who pollutes the house of our forefathers!"

Sirius jumped and swung round at the sound of his mother's voice. His eyes came to rest on a gigantic portrait of Walburga that hung on the long wall beside the front door. The artist had done his best, but nothing could disguise the almost animalistic cruelty that twisted the painted face as it stared down on the Black heir.

"Well, that's a charming new addition to the family home," Sirius muttered, staring up at his mother's magnified face with resentment. "As if I didn't get enough grief with just one of you lurking around."

"_SILENCE!_" The portrait shrieked. "_Show some respect for you betters!_"

"I would if I could see some," Sirius retorted.

The following jumbled string of curses and hexes that spewed from the portrait's mouth practically blistered the air.

Sirius swung round and stalked up the stairs, dragging his trunk behind him. He ignored Regulus who pressed himself fearfully against the banister when he saw Sirius's expression.

_Months more of this, _Sirius thought miserably. _Weeks and weeks without the Marauders or school or Gryffindors. Weeks and weeks without Moony. How the hell am I going to survive?_

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Sirius hadn't planned on going to dinner that evening with his family. Usually, they were happy to see as little of him as possible, but that night, Kreacher popped into Sirius's room, a smirk on his twisted little face.

"The Master and Mistress expect Master Sirius dressed and down for dinner in fifteen minutes," he told Sirius in tones of great relish, then added in a mutter; "Kreacher hopes the nasty little blood-traitor will get his punishment for besmirching the Noble House of Bl – "

His high, grating voice was cut off by the ropes that wound around his body and head from Sirius's wand until only his furious, beady little eyes were visible. Sirius felt himself shaking with anger as he stared at the little figure in front of him. Kreacher was gasping for breath and thrashing furiously. Sirius flicked his wand again, banishing Kreacher to the kitchen.

"See if there's someone in there willing to untie you, you disgusting little toerag," he muttered under his breath. Reluctantly, he opened his trunk and began rooting through it for the dress robes that he hadn't worn since the last family dinner he had been forced to attend the previous summer.

He pulled out books, his school uniform, various pranking items and chocolate; all of which he flung uncaringly on the pristine floor of his elf-cleaned bedroom. He came across a muggle plastic bag and opened it to find the posters of bikini-clad girls and motorbikes. His mouth pulled itself into the first smile he had given since getting on the train in Hogsmeade. This was a perfect way to get his own back for that monstrosity hanging in the hall. And it would be a good way to pass the time he spent stuck in this room.

"_SIRIUS BLACK!_" His mother's voice – whether portrait or real, Sirius couldn't tell – spurred him into action again and after a few more minutes of rummaging, he finally pulled out his rather wrinkled dress robes and flung them on.

He launched himself down the stairs and ignored the shriek in the hall of: "How _dare_ you run about so _recklessly _in the noble house of your ancestors!" He skidded to a halt outside the dining room and tried to catch his breath as he slowly pushed the door open.

His family were already seated at the table and he felt pinned by their intense, disgusted gazes.

"_Sit!_" Orion snapped, and Sirius hurried quickly to a chair and sank into it. "I have just been informing your mother that she has been extremely lax in her discipline when dealing with you," his father continued. "You get away with far too much, and it's time that learned to behave in a proper pureblood fashion."

"You mean a proper _Slytherin_ fashion." It was at times like this that Sirius cursed his complete inability to keep his mouth shut.

"_Don't you DARE interrupt me while I am speaking!_" Orion roared so suddenly that Sirius shrank back and Regulus gave a little hiccough of surprise.

"As I was saying," Orion said, his voice returning seamlessly to oily smoothness. "Your mother has obviously not been punishing you as severely as she should have been. I have had reports from your school of your atrocious behaviour, your many detentions and your vendetta against all those counted noble enough to be in Slytherin. Your jealousy is obviously eating at you, but you will not be allowed to continue in this manner."

Sirius seethed silently, but didn't dare interrupt again.

"Regulus also wrote to inform us that you have been indulging in several romantic relations with _mudblood_ Gryffindor girls. These will stop immediately. You _will _do you duty to your family, and we will arrange a marriage with a suitable pureblood family when you are of age."

Sirius sent a poisonous glare towards his little brother and Regulus sank low in his seat, a flush of shame on his cheeks. Sirius could only be glad that no one seemed to have guessed about his relationship with Remus. He wasn't sure he would ever survive that one.

Food began appearing on their plates from the kitchen and Orion was distracted for a time. Sirius picked at his, keeping a wary eye on his parents.

"Regulus!"

Regulus jumped and choked on his food as Orion addressed him. "Yes, father?" He whispered when he had recovered.

"You mother tells me you are thinking about trying out as Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team?"

"Yes, sir," he murmured again. "Lucius Malfoy is leaving this year, so the position will be open."

"I have purchased a gift for you as a reward for your loyalty to this family and your House." He sent a meaningful glare in Sirius's direction. "_Perry!_"

A house elf appeared at Orion's side with a crack causing both Sirius and Regulus to jump. It handed a long, wrapped package to Orion, who in turn passed it to Regulus. Regulus nervously fumbled with the package, pulling off the brown paper. His eyes widened when a brand new, glossy broomstick rolled onto the table in front of his plate. Sirius immediately recognised it as the brand new Shooting Star from James's most recent edition of _Which Broomstick?_

"Thank you, father," Regulus said, his voice awed as he reached out to brush his fingers over the broomstick.

"The broomstick doesn't make the player," Sirius snapped before he could help himself. "You actually need some talent as well. Or are you going to bribe your way onto the Slytherin team? Buy them all new broomsticks?" He knew it was hurt and a touch of jealousy driving his mouth but he just couldn't seem to stop himself.

"How _dare _you!" This time it was his mother's voice and Sirius winced. "_Kreacher!_" The ugly little house elf popped up at her elbow and sneered at Sirius. "I think our eldest son needs a stint in the cellar to remind him of his manners. Don't give him anything to eat until he is released tomorrow evening." Kreacker looked delighted, which never boded well.

"Bloody Slytherins!" Sirius shrieked, struggling as the house elf's magic bound him and lifted him from his seat. His own voice reminded him disturbingly of Bellatrix in one of her tempers, but he was too far gone to really care. He felt a tug as his wand flew into his mother's hand from his pocket. He guessed she was trying to demonstrate to his father that her discipline really was up to scratch. "Bloody Blacks! I hate you all! All of you! You hear that? _I hate you all!_"

His family ignored him as he was levitated from the room, through the kitchen and down the stairs to the wine cellars. The door was slammed close and he was plunged into darkness. Fear kickstarted his heart into a violent hammering that battered against his ribcage bruisingly. As soon as he felt Kreacher's bonds leaving him, he fumbled his way to the corner of the room where the old wooden wheelbarrow laden with wine-barrels was where Regulus hid candles and parchment for him.

Sirius scrabbled round beneath the wheelbarrow desperately. His fingers grazed an old scrap of torn parchment, but there were no candles or matches waiting for him. It felt like the ultimate betrayal.

There were things living in the dark, Sirius was sure of it. The house was so ingrained with dark magic that the shadows of the cellars had come alive – malevolent demon-like creatures with eyes that stared and stared and silent feet that came closer and closer the longer he was down here. They were waiting for the moment when his guard fell and then they would…who knew what they would do? Sirius was petrified of finding out.

He scrambled away from the dark corner of the room, trying not to think about the heavy shadows that crouched unevenly between the wine barrels that lined the walls.

He backed away to the tiny line of light that filtered in under the door and crouched down beside it, his eyes searching the blackness for movement. They were there – the shadow creatures. He knew it. He could feel their eyes in the dark.

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When he was finally released the next evening, Sirius's eyes were dry, itchy and red from a day and night of constant searching, hardly daring to blink for fear of the shadow-demons. He stumbled blindly from the cellar and through the kitchen. He ignored the portrait that spat in disgust at the sight of him as he made his way through the hall and up to his room.

His wand was lying on his bed, but the mess he had made when pulling things out of his trunk in search of his dress robes was still there. The house elves were obviously not going to tidy up after a blood traitor like him. Sirius was relieved. He didn't want to think of their grasping little fingers on his belongings.

He pulled off the sweaty dress robes he was wearing and flung them to the floor, grabbing some clean clothes from his trunk and hurrying down the hall to the bathroom. He filled up the silver-snake-footed bathtub and sunk into the warm water with relief, glad of the magical light which permeated the whole room. For the first time in what felt like centuries, he allowed his eyes to fall closed for a while.

Now, in the brilliant light of the gleaming bathroom, his fears seemed stupid and childish. He dreaded that someone might find out about them. Someone other than Regulus…not much chance of that, he supposed gloomily. Sirius just prayed that Remus would never know how much of a coward he was. Remus, who had gone through so much more than Sirius. What would he say if he knew his brave, reckless boyfriend was afraid of the dark?

By the time he returned to his room, Sirius was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to make sure the room was lit as brightly as he could manage, before falling into bed and sleeping. The only thing that stopped him was his knowledge that Remus's transformation was this evening.

He went to his trunk and tried to prevent his jaw cracking from his yawns as he scrabbled round for a piece of parchment and a quill. He sat down at his desk and tried to think of what to say. It had to sound upbeat and cheerful. He couldn't bear to think of Remus tearing himself apart – literally – in his worry for Sirius.

_Dear Moony,_

Now what? Sirius stared sleepily at the paper. "Concentrate!" he told himself sternly.

_How was your you-know-what? I wish more than anything I was there for you after the moon. I've had loads of extra time over the holidays as I don't like coming out my room. I've been practising becoming Padfoot. Not much success so far, sadly. _

Not really true, but he had every intention of staying in his room and out of the way of his family. That would leave him plenty of time for practicing his animagus transformation. What to tell him? Remus wouldn't believe he was completely happy here, but he needed something a little bit bad to report to put the intelligent boy off track. The answer came to him as his eyes drifted over the muggle posters that were still lying on his floor.

_My mother had a portrait done of herself while we were at school. She hung it up in the hall with ever-lasting sticking charms. It's worse than she is, I swear. Every time I walk through the hall it starts yelling abuse at me. I plan on getting revenge, though. Remember those posters I bought at Christmas? The ones of the naked girls and the motorbikes? Well, I'm going to stick them all to my walls with the same charm she used for that bloody portrait. That'll show her! I'd rather have lots of naked Moonys on my wall, but even I'm not that suicidal. Plus I don't have any naked Moony pics…hint, hint. _

Yes, just enough humour. It was a humour he really didn't feel right now. He yawned again and rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes. That was long enough. He was too exhausted to write to James, but at least Remus would be reassured.

_Anyway, I hope you recovered okay. Are you able to come to James's in mid-August? My parents and darling Regulus are going to France then, so I'm sneaking off to the Potters. Until that day, I will be pining for you presence. _

_Oodles of love and post-moon-cuddles for mini-you,_

_Padfoot_

_PS: Isn't 'oodles' an awesome word? It reminds me of noodles and poodles and strudels and other things ending in 'oodles'…_

Good enough. Sirius read it through a couple of times to be sure, then opened his bedroom window and whistled piercingly for one of the family owls. There was a clatter from the small wooden owlry in the garden, then a fierce-looking barn owl landed on the windowsill. He attached the letter and watched it fly from sight before closing the window again and falling back onto his bed. Sleep was good. For now, sleep was what he needed.

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Orion left the next day. Sirius heard him bellowing orders to the house elves from the living room as he prepared to floo to the family house in France. He felt a shudder of relief run through him. His mother was spiteful and malicious, and her punishments had plagued him and damaged him all his life. But it was his father whom he was truly afraid of.

The Black family insanity ran strongly through Orion's branch of the family and when he lost his temper, Sirius was sure he could see it rearing up in his eyes. It reminded him rather unnervingly of the way the wolf flared in Remus's eyes at times but - whereas the wolf was feral, untameable and wild – the thing that rose in Orion's eyes was much slyer and more intelligently cruel. It hinted at insanity powered by a viciously agile intellect and the thought of that combination frightened Sirius more than anything else.

His mother and brother saw it too, Sirius knew. The way they fawned over the Black Patriarch would have made Sirius slightly nauseous is he didn't have a strong, self-preserving urge to do the same.

Sirius decided to stay in his room in the days after his father's departure, until the fire of his mother's desire to discipline him had died down a bit. The house elves reluctantly brought him small portions of food twice a day and Sirius spent most of the time practising his animagus transformation with little success.

On the third day of his self-willed confinement, he gave up in frustration and threw himself on the bed. He wondered why Remus had not replied to his letter. Perhaps his transformation had gone very badly and his was seriously injured. Or perhaps he had not recovered his mind. Sirius longed to floo him and find out, but that would mean venturing into the main lounge and probably earning another long stint in the cellar if he was caught. And he was almost positive his mother would have changed the password needed to use it if his exclusion from the fidelius charm was any indication.

By the time the fifth day rolled around, Sirius was feeling the urge to claw his way through his own skin in boredom and worry. It was early evening, and he climbed up onto his windowsill to stare out of his window at the not-quite-full moon. He actually felt nauseous when he though about why Remus might not have replied

Sirius had written another letter and tried to call one of the post owls again to deliver it, but none had come to his whistle. What on earth could be happening to Remus? He could only hope that James and Peter were with him.

As Sirius stared out over the garden, his eye was caught by the ghostly shape of a barn owl as it flew from the lounge window downstairs and out over the garden below to the owlry. His heart caught in his throat. It had been a barn owl that delivered his message. Maybe Remus _had _replied, but his mother had ordered the owls to deliver any mail for Sirius directly to her.

Sirius leapt off the windowsill and sprinted to his door. Then he paused, his hand on the door handle. There was no way he would be able to prevent his mother from reading the messages. He could only hope that Remus hadn't written anything incriminating. He walked back over to his bed and sat on it, putting his head in his hands. He would wait until late that night when his mother and Regulus had gone to bed, he decided. Then he would creep downstairs into the lounge and try to floo Remus to check that he was okay and warn him about his letters.

Sirius's heart jumped happily in his chest at the thought of seeing Remus again. Yes, that's what he would do. Check that Remus was okay with his own eyes.

The evening seemed to go on forever. Sirius lay on his bed, listening to the grating voice of his mother – both portrait and real - echoing through the house, as it shrieked orders and abuse at Regulus and the house elves respectively. Eventually, he heard footsteps on the stairs and the doors to Regulus's and his mother's rooms closing.

He left it another two hours before he crept out of his room, along the long passage, down the stairs to the hall where his mother's portrait-self was snoozing against the frame, and into the lounge.

His stomach was crunched up in nerves and excitement, and he felt properly alive for the first time that summer.

Sirius grabbed a handful of floo power from the urn on the mantelpiece, murmured a fire spell at the grate, then flung the powder into the flames. They spluttered green for a second, before going back to orange. Sirius's heart sunk. His mother really was getting paranoid. He would need a password to floo anyone. If he tried to stick his head into these flames, it would be burnt.

He tried twice more, before admitting defeat and heading back to his room, his heart heavy in his chest. He flung himself back onto his bed and stared up at the canopy above him. The emotions rolling through him reminded him strongly of the time when Remus was trapped in his father's house being tortured, while Sirius could do nothing. Only this time Sirius didn't have the other Marauders for support.

He wished he could stop thinking of all the things that might be wrong with Remus. What if he was wrong and his mother wasn't intercepting his letters? What if Remus was dangerously ill, or stuck as his child-like self and calling for Sirius? And if that was so, why didn't James or Peter write to him?

Sirius groaned and sat up. "Titcha!" He called softly, deciding to use the house elf with the least obvious dislike of him. There was a soft crack and Titcha appeared, blinking sleepily around Sirius's room. When he spotted Sirius, the expression tightened on his pointed little face and he gave a stiff nod. "Yes, Master Sirius?"

"I need alcohol," Sirius said to him. "Lots of alcohol. Firewhiskey, wine, mead – I don't care. I just want to stop thinking and go to sleep.

Titcha frowned. "Those are the master's drinks."

"I don't care. It was an order. Make sure he won't notice. And don't you dare tell _anyone_. Including the other house elves."

Titcha obviously struggled to find a way around the order, then scowled, gave a resigned nod, and disappeared with another soft crack.

He returned a few minutes later with a half a decanter of firewhiskey and two glass bottles of wine. "Is this enough, Master Sirius?" he asked, with a pronounced sneer on his face.

"Yes. Go now."

Sirius carefully opened the firewhiskey and sniffed. If anything would get him good and drunk it was this. He took a tentative sip and gasped as the fiery liquid burned down his throat.

"Am I a Gryffindor, or am I a Gryffindor?" he murmured, before putting the decanter to his lips again and gulping down several burning mouthfuls. His head immediately began spinning and his eyes streamed. Sirius wondered if he would ever taste anything again or if his taste buds really were as dissolved as they took another gulp. It felt more warm than burning this time, probably because the nerves in his mouth had shut down in self defence. It didn't take long to finish the bottle and by that time he was comfortably drunk.

_Remus will be fine_, his drunken mind assured him. _His letters are just not getting through. You're worrying for nothing._

"S'right!" he agreed out loud. "N'he got M'rau…M'rad…M'raud'rs with 'im."

The empty decanter dropped from his hand and landed on a pile of rolled papers by his bed. He stared blearily at them for a moment before realising they were his posters. This, he thought, was the perfect time to get his mother back for that monstrosity in the hall. _And_ for stealing Remus's, and possibly James's and Peter's letters as well.

He pulled the posters up onto his bed, relieved that many years previously his Great Uncle Alphard had taught him the permanent sticking charm to aid him in his mischief. After all, hadn't he promised Remus he would stick the posters up? He couldn't lie to someone as good as Remus.

"Bloody brill'ant boy," he agreed with himself.

Sirius set about rather haphazardly redecorating his room with everything he knew his mother would despise. He transfigured an old robe into a brilliantly scarlet and gold Gryffindor banner and stuck it on his wall.

After a few more gulps of wine from one of the other bottles Titcha had bought, Sirius's lingering feelings of nervousness and doubt seemed to burn away. He set about sticking the posters to the wall as well, making sure that the motionless, bikini-clad muggle girls were clearly visible from the door, and the motorbikes covered every spare space. They were even cooler that he remembered and he vowed to get one and learn to ride it as soon as possible.

Finally, he dug around in his chest for a photo of the Marauders that Frank Longbottom had taken one day after a Quidditch match last autumn. It depicted the four of them together, their faces alight with happiness and camaraderie. He reached out and brushed a rather shaky finger lightly over photo-Remus who leaned into touch, his smile widening even further. A sharp ache rose in Sirius's chest and throat, and he rapidly blinked away the moisture that rose in his eyes, embarrassed at the way the alcohol brought all his emotions to the surface.

He turned and stuck the photo of the wall right beside his bed and put a protection charm on it as well to prevent anyone damaging it.

By the time he had finished his redecorating, he was swaying and exhausted. He dropped into bed, keeping his lights lit as usual, and fell asleep with the image of Marauders together in front of his eyes.

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"_SIRIUS BLACK!_"

Sirius leapt awake so violently that he tumbled from his bed. Silver daggers of pain seemed to be searing through his head from his eyeballs. His brain, he was sure, had been transfigured into cotton wool by a malevolent house elf.

"_Sirius Black, how DARE you!_"

Sirius opened his eyes and was met by a blurry rectangular image in red and gold. He blinked rapidly and his room came into focus. Sirius wished that it hadn't. The walls were plastered in posters of motorbikes, half-naked muggle girls and a giant Gryffindor banner. If his mother ever killed him it would be for this.

"…_Sneaking out of bed at night and STEALING FLOO POWDER like a COMMON THIEF!…_"

He could hear his mother's footsteps storming up the stairs and launched himself desperately towards the door. He couldn't let her see his room like this. What the _hell _had he been thinking? He had never seriously intended to stick up the posters – especially after his father's threats and his mother's increasingly rabid attempts to discipline him.

His feet became entangled in his bedspread and he sprawled to the floor. His head was splitting open in agony.

"…_Punish you so severely that –_"

The door banged open and Sirius froze on the floor where he was trying to disentangle himself from his bedclothes. His mother, for the first time that Sirius could ever remember, was speechless. Her face was slack with horror and shock as she took in his new wall decorations. Regulus hovered behind her in the doorway, his mouth and eyes open so widely that he resembled a well-bred bowling ball.

Sirius watched apprehensively as Walburga's black eyes moved from the muggle girls positioned directly opposite the doorway, to the motorbikes, the Gryffindor banner, the photo of the Marauders, and finally to the three almost empty bottles that lay beside Sirius's bed.

Finally, she said in a voice so quiet and full of loathing that it barely sounded human: "You will remove these at once. You will burn them. Then you will be taken to the cellar along with a self-scourgifying bucket for your filth, and will be left in there until I see fit to free you."

Sirius felt sick with a mixture of blind fear and his hangover. He could barely focus on his mother as he forced himself to answer. "I can't remove them. Nor can you. I used the same charm you used for that bloody portrait of yours in the hall." The last was a said with a touch of his old defiance, but it withered under her black-ice stare.

"_Kreacher!_"

The house elf appeared with a crack, and he almost toppled over in shock when he spotted the walls of Sirius's room. "Y-y-yes, Mistress?" he stammered, his eyes almost as wide as Regulus's.

"You will take Sirius to the kitchen, punish him and lock him in the cellar until I inform you to release him. He will receive no food until I say so."

Kreacher looked like all his birthdays had come at once. His beady little eyes gleamed with malice as Sirius felt the now-familiar sensation of the elf's magic wrap around him in ropes. He was floated over the heads of his mother and Regulus, unable to protest as his mouth was sealed shut. His eyes met his little brother's, and Regulus opened his mouth as though he were going to say something. Then he glanced sideways at their mother and he closed it again without a word.

When Sirius reached the kitchen, he was pinned against the table and subjected to the invisible lashes of house elf magic for so long that he thought he might pass out with the pain. Although there would be no permanent physical damage from the punishment, the house elf's magic meant that he never grew used to the pain and every lash felt as bad as the first. Even though he knew no wounds were being left, it felt as though every lash flayed open the skin of his back and filled each wound with acid. Unable to help himself, he begged for them to stop, crying out in pain in time to the rhythmic whipping.

By the time Kreacher released him and tossed him into he cellar, he was half sobbing, half panting, his body spasming slightly. There were no signs of his beating, but his nerves remembered the pain and were paying him back for it.

It was only fifteen minutes later, when the throbbing in his head had receded slightly and the spasms had stopped that he realised the full implications of his situation. He was now trapped in the pitch-dark, candle-less cellar, with no release in the foreseeable future. How would he stay awake that long? He couldn't even contemplate falling asleep here in this tomb of shadows with their eyes and velvet paws that crept closer and closer…

_Moony had worse than this_, he told himself sternly. _He was beaten and burned and close to death by the time we got to him. _

Another part of him said; _he had light. He had a bed. I am down here and it's cold and I swear I can feel something looking at me from that corner. I wish you were here, Moony. If you were here I could be brave. If James or even Peter were here I could be brave. But you will never be able to rescue me, because the damn house is under Fidelius. There is no bloody way I am ever getting out of here until my mother releases me. _

He shifted closer to the door and crouched beside the thin line of light that filtered underneath it. The stone of the floor was icy cold, in spite of the fact that it was summer, and Sirius's stomach growled with hunger. It was made worse by the fact that he wasn't even sure when he would be eating again.

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Time had never dragged so much. With no way to tell whether it was day or night, no candles burning, no one to talk to, it was impossible to tell whether he had been there hours, days or even weeks. After a long time, his headache began to fade and Sirius almost missed it because now that his mind was clear, his brain began to concoct more and more elaborate pictures of what could be living in the walls and seeping through the shadows of this dark-magic soaked cellar.

He wished his mind could go back to being fuzzy again. Time would pass more quickly if – THERE! Sirius jerked and squinted into the darkness. He was sure he saw something moving in the shadows where the wooden barrow stood in the corner. Almost as if something were settling in there for a long wait.

_Just your imagination, Sirius._

More time passed and his eyes began to water as he kept them fixed on the corner with unwavering determination. His mouth was dry with fear and he felt almost dizzy with thirst and exhaustion. He was sure he had been down there more than a day now, though no one had come to check on him.

The shadows-creatures were getting braver. He saw more and more flickering movement against the walls. He wondered if it was possible to get a heart attack if your heart thundered this violently for such an extended period of time. If only –

THERE, _THERE!_

In the dim light filtering under the door, Sirius was positive he saw the small, inky shape of a shadow-demon scuttling between two barrels. He could have sworn he even saw a gleam of eyes.

It was too much. Sirius began pounding at the door and screaming to his mother. "_LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE! I'LL BE GOOD! I'LL BE –_"

_There! _He was positive this time. He heard claws skittering over the stone.

Completely forgetting his Gryffindor bravery, he resumed his pounding on the door, his screaming, his pleading. He thought he might have heard Kreacher chuckling outside the door once, but no one came to let him out.

He wasn't sure how long he had been screaming before his voice cracked and gave out, sending him into a violent fit of coughing that made his eyes water. Sirius desperately tried to blink away the tears so he could keep a clear view of the shadow-infested room around him.

He was so, so thirsty. He couldn't ever remember being this thirsty before. He wasn't cold, though. His fear kept him warm, even though he was only dressed in the thin trousers and shirt he had fallen asleep in.

Unable to scream anymore, Sirius lay down beside the door again and stared out into the dark. Hours passed, or maybe even days. His thirst got so bad, he could barely even keep his mind on the shadow-demons anymore. If only he had something to drink…

Sirius sat up, cursing himself. He _did _have something to drink! Barrels and barrels of something-to-drink. He was surrounded by them. There was one two feet to his left, clearly visible in the dim, dim light from under the door.

He scrambled to his knees and fumbled with the lid, working his nails and fingers under it until they were bleeding. Eventually, a piece broke off with a snap, sending Sirius sprawling into the deep shadows. Panting with terror, he scrambled back into his tiny circle of thin light. He swore he could hear chuckling and gurgling from the shadows as they retreated again.

Kneeling beside the barrel, Sirius jammed his hand roughly into the small hole left by the broken-off piece of the lid, uncaring of the scratches and splinters he received. He pressed his face close and began slurping up the wine desperately. He almost immediately felt his head growing fuzzy, as he had not eaten in so long, but he could not bring his dehydrated body to stop.

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"Sirius?"

Sirius blearily tried to focus on the fuzzy light emerging from under the door, trying to decide whether he had imagined the voice. "Reg?" he tried.

"Yes, it's me."

"You come t'let me out?"

"I…n-no. I can't. You don't understand. Dad flooed and Mum told him about you and he said she wasn't to let you out until he – "

"Lemme _out!_" Sirius begged, scratching a the door. "_Please, _Reg! You don' unnerstan'! The shadow-thingies get me n'here. Please! _PLEASE!_"

"I _can't_! Weren't you listening?"

"Then why th'_hell _d'you come 'ere?"

"Sirius…" Regulus's voice sounded worried. "Are you alright? Why are you talking like that?"

"_They'll get me! They'll ge'me, 'n it'll be all YOUR fault!_"

"Sirius, didn't you – "

"_LET ME OUT!_" Sirius began hammering on the door again, even as another coughing fit overtook him as his abused throat protested at more screaming.

"Sirius, _please!_"

"_I HATE you! Y'hear that? I HATE you! You're no brother 'o mine!_"

"Sirius – "

"_IHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOU!_"

"Fine! Fine! You know what? I hate you too! This is _your _fault and you deserve everything you get!" Regulus's voice grew shrill. "I hope you _rot _in there like the _disgusting _Gryffindor scum that you are!"

His angry footsteps moved away from the door and Sirius was left in the heavy darkness with only the scuttling, chucking shadows as company. The following hours seemed to drag even more that usual. His head, throat and fists ached, the wine blurred his mind and he desperately tried to keep his eyes on the shadows as he vomited again and again into his self-scourgifying bucket.

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Kreacher brought him a tiny plate of food at one point. Sirius was too drunk, and too busy watching the shadows to notice it for nearly two hours. He only discovered it when he scrambled out of the way of one of the shadow-demons and put his hand in the cold stew.

He gulped it down so fast, his stomach protested and he only just made it to his bucket in time. He had to wait another day and a half before he was given more. He only managed two mouthfuls before he began to feel nauseas again.

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Iss justa dream, Sirius told himself. Th'worl' behind th'cellar door 's jussa dream 'cos he'd been down'ere f'rever, 'n if you've been some place f'rever, you can'ta been anywhere els' right? Right.

M'rauders…jussa dream. 'N Remus…wunnerful, wunnerful Moony…All jussa dream to escape th' shadows thingies with a eyes, an' a scuttling, scuttling feets. No, feet, not feets. Moony wouldn' like him sayin' feets… But why'dit matter, cos Moony was jussa dream…

Bloody g'd dream, though…


	50. Not Quite a Person

**Disclaimer: All JKR's. Not mine. Sadly. **

**A/N: Many thanks to Salzan who gave me the brilliant idea for the curse on the door (it will all become clear later…)**

_"Darkness does not leave us easily as we would hope." _

_(Margaret Stohl)_

**REMUS: **

It was four 'o clock in the morning when Remus woke to a loud tapping. He sat up quickly, buzzing with adrenaline as his eyes flicked round his darkened room and his nose sought the source of the noise. His nerves had been on edge ever since Sirius had stopped writing. The wolf paced just beneath the surface of his control, and he knew from the concerned and wary looks that Angela and Neil shot him from time to time that they spotted Moony behind his eyes.

There was a rustling from the hay-filled basket beside his bed, and he reached out a soothing hand to stroke Hamish's head as the hedgehog peered curiously over the edge. The tapping noise came again and Remus's head jerked towards the window, his nostrils flaring. The tapping came again accompanied, this time, by an impatient hooting. Remus sighed in relief. It was just an owl.

He shoved his covers aside and climbed out of bed to let the owl in his window. When he spotted the bird seated on his windowsill, his heart gave a leap of joy. It was the barn owl that had delivered Sirius's letter at the beginning of summer. Sirius was okay!

He jerked the window open, uncaring of the fact he had neglected to unlatch it and tore a great chunk of the frame out in his hurry. The owl swooped silently into his room and perched on the back of his desk chair. It held out its leg imperiously. Attached to it was a fairly thick wad of letters.

With shaking hands, Remus reached out and unfastened the letter from the bird's leg. As soon as it was free, the owl launched itself off the chair and out the window.

"No, wait!" Remus cried, running back to the window and calling after it. He wanted to be able to write back to Sirius straight away, and the Anders' owl was away delivering his latest letter to James.

The owl ignored him, and continued its ghostly flight back to the Blacks' house.

Slowly, Remus returned to his desk and sat on his chair, looking down at the folded parchments in his hand. The one on top was written on the familiar good-quality parchment that the Black family used. He brought it up to his nose to inhale Sirius's scent. The smell that filled his nostrils turned out to be just a little different to the one he longed for.

"Regulus," he whispered aloud, his heart sinking painfully.

He glanced at the other letters and suddenly recognised his own handwriting on the top one. With trembling fingers, he ripped open Regulus's letter, uncaring that it tore a little round the seal. _Stupid Remus,_ he thought to himself. Sirius would never seal his letters with the Black family crest. What had he been thinking? _You weren't thinking at all, _he admonished himself, _you were hoping. Stupid, stupid Remus. Haven't you had enough life lessons yet to know to always expect the worse?_

He steeled himself and turned his eyes to what was written in the letter.

_12 Grimmauld Place, London_

_Don't make me regret this, Lupin. Get in, get him, get out. I'm putting my whole family at risk. No Aurors. You have been warned. I have enclosed the letters you sent. Stop sending them. He's not getting them, and I only just stopped my mother from intercepting them. I haven't read them. You can see they're still sealed._

_We leave for France on the 16__th__ August. The house will be empty except for house elves. _

_Consider my debt to you for that day in the dungeons paid. _

_Regulus Black_

Remus felt his heart try to soar with relief at the fact he now had access to Sirius, while his stomach simultaneously scrunched up and settled in an uncomfortable lump at the thought of how bad things were if Regulus felt he had to send this letter.

Without reading it a second time, Remus leapt to his feet, pausing only to catch Hamish who had tried to dive head-first out of his basket and in Remus's direction when he heard the soft growls his werewolf-owner unconsciously made as he read the letter. Remus dropped the little animal into his pyjama-shirt pocket as he raced out of his room and towards the one that Neil and Angela shared next door.

He burst in and found himself immediately pinned against the wall with a wand to his throat. Moony kicked in and there was a blur of blood-red confusion that slowly cleared so that Remus found himself on the floor, straddling Neil's chest with the man's hands pinned above his head while his wand skittered away across the floor.

"_Remus! _Remus! It's me! It's Neil!"

Remus shook his head and stared down at his adoptive father's wide-eyed face. Although Neil was panting in pain and shock, Remus wasn't even out of breath. He jerked to his senses and scrambled off Neil's chest.

"Sorry, sorry! But you attacked me and Moony took over!" He patted Neil's neck and chest trying to determine if he had really hurt the man.

"Moony?" Neil wheezed.

"The w-wolf."

Neil sat up an rubbed his chest. "I'm sorry too. Auror senses – you burst in and I reacted without thinking. What's wrong, Remus? You've never woken us up like this before."

"I got a l-letter from Regulus."

"Who's Regulus?"

Remus looked up at Angela's voice and saw her leaning over the edge of her bed to peer down at them. Her curly blonde hair stood out wildly from her head and the brightly coloured pictures of flowers on her nightgown appeared to be magically charmed to grow rapidly from seeds into full flowers, then shrink back to their original state again. Remus wondered how Neil managed to get any sleep without feeling seasick.

"Regulus Black. Sirius's brother. Am I right, Remus?"

Remus nodded as Neil answered the question. He held out the letter and Neil took it carefully and opened it, his eyes scanning the contents.

"'That day in the dungeons'?" Neil questioned, looking at Remus oddly.

Remus closed his eyes and looked away. "That's not the point. The point is that Sirius is obviously in trouble and now we can go and get him."

"Remus, we can't just break into someone's house and kidnap their son."

"But there's something _wrong_!"

"We have no proof of that," Angela said gently, as she took the letter from her husband's hand and skimmed it.

"Yes we do," Remus said stubbornly. "Regulus is terrified of breaking rules and getting into trouble. He is one of life's born followers. The only way he would ever do something drastic is if Sirius was in really bad trouble."

Angela and Neil shared a look and Remus slammed his fist down on a floorboard by his leg. It buckled a little and Hamish wriggled in his pocket in surprise. Remus stroked his head apologetically. "Don't you _trust _me?"

"Maybe we should go and talk to Mr.. Potter," Neil said. "He's a head Auror and he'll know how best to approach this situation."

"But Regulus said no Aurors," Remus pointed out, feeling a flash of guilt at the thought of betraying the boy after he had done the bravest thing in his life.

"He meant Aurors in an official capacity," Neil said. "He meant he didn't want Aurors having access to the Black house and finding out exactly how much illegal dark magic is practised there. If we go, it will just be us. We'll be breaking as many laws by entering their house as they do by practicing the dark arts."

"Are you sure?"

Neil's eyes softened. "I promise. Do you trust me, lad?"

Remus hesitated, then nodded, giving Neil a shy smile. His adoptive father smiled back. "So we'll go see the Potters then," he said.

Remus groaned and pulled himself to his feet. "I'll run and put some clothes on. We have to go now."

"It's the middle of the night, lad." Neil stood as well and put a restraining hand on his arm. "I know you're worried, but don't you think it might be best to wait a little while until the sun rises at least?"

Remus glowered at him and felt Moony rise and peer warningly through his eyes. "It's the sixteenth today. Regulus said they would be gone. I'm going to find him today with or without your help, so don't try to stop me." His voice had dropped much lower than it usually did, only just above a growl.

Neil carefully removed his hand from Remus's arm and stepped back slowly to indicate that he meant the wolf no harm. Remus felt Moony subside and go back to his pacing. "S-sorry," he murmured, unable to keep from flinching as Neil stepped forward again at his apology.

"Remus, you _do_ know that we will never punish you for something you can't help like the wolf breaking free when you're upset." Neil spoke gently, but firmly, not making any further moves towards his adopted son.

"Of course I do," Remus murmured. "I'm just tetchy because Moony – " He flinched again, without thinking as Neil's arm made a sudden move towards him. When he realised he had just invalidated his previous statement, he flushed and ducked his head. "Sorry."

"Remus," Angela said, sounding distressed. "You obviously don't know."

"I _do_!" Remus was frustrated. All he wanted to do was get out of this house and rescue Sirius. He wished he had gone on his own and not informed Angela and Neil about the letter. It had been an odd, _new _instinct – one he'd never felt before. It had said to him 'you need help. Run to your parents. They will know what to do.' And he had obeyed it without thinking. When had he become this dependent on other people? When had he lost the strength he had build up over the years he lived with his real father?

"Remus…"

"I _do _know," Remus said, forcing himself to remain still and calm when Angela got out of bed and put an arm around him. "_Intellectually_, I know. But right now I'm all wound up and I just want to go and find Sirius, and it's just instinctive. I _do _know. Can we go now?"

He saw Angela and Neil exchange glances over his head, then Neil reluctantly nodded. "All right. Go and get some clothes on. We'll meet you down in the lounge in ten minutes. We'll floo to the Potters from there."

Remus hurried to his room and threw on the first clothes that came to hand. He transferred Hamish into his cloak pocket when the hedgehog gave an indignant snuffle at the idea of being left behind. He knew it was stupid to take his pet on a rescue mission, but he was worried at how close Moony was to the surface, and Hamish seemed to calm his more violent tendencies for some reason. Perhaps it was because – as the Marauders had found out for the animagus spell – animals other than humans soothed the wolf rather than enraging it.

He made his way down to the lounge and stood, fidgeting impatiently beside the scruffy fireplace for Neil and Angela to come down. The two emerged eventually, dressed in neutral robes of dark blue – a rare thing in Angela's case, though her hair was still doing its dandelion impression to compensate. Neil had Regulus's letter clutched tightly in his hand.

"Go on then, Remus," he urged as he lit the fire with a flick of his wand.

Remus needed no further prompting and flung the floo powder he had clutched in his hand into the fire. "Potter manor!"

He knelt down stuck his head into the emerald flames and closed his eyes as his body adjusted to the disconcerting feeling of being in two places at once. When he opened it, he was confronted with the sight of a very curious-looking house elf standing in the Potter's formal lounge.

"Please will you inform Mr.. Potter and James that I am here?" Remus said.

The house elf hesitated, glancing at the grandfather clock in one corner of the massive room.

"I know you don't want to wake them, but it's an emergency." Remus did his best not to sound as desperate and impatient as he was feeling.

The house elf gave a resigned nod and disappeared with a pop. A few minutes later Remus heard a distant thumping that grew louder and turned into running footsteps, a liquid swish, a clatter, and a faint yell of "Not the banister, James!"

Then the lounge door was flung open and James skidded in, his glasses on crooked, his hair a bird's nest and dressed only in a pair of red-and-white striped pyjama bottoms.

"Come through, Moony." He stuck his hands into the flames and hauled Remus through by his shoulders, causing them both to fall in a heap on the hearthrug. Remus only just avoided squashing Hamish.

"What's wrong?" James asked urgently, then let out a yelp as Neil almost trod on his hand as he followed Remus through the fire. "Professor Anders?"

Mr. and Mrs. Potter entered the room just as Angela stepped over the grate after her husband.

"What on earth is going on here?" Mr. Potter asked, staring around his suddenly well-populated lounge in bemusement.

"I got a l-letter," Remus announced. James's head jerked in his direction when he heard Remus's slight stutter. Remus's friends were aware that he only gave into the affliction under situations of high stress.

"From who?"

"Regulus."

"_Regulus?_" James's voice was incredulous. Remus handed the letter over to his friend.

"Regulus Black?" Mr. Potter asked. His hair was as scruffy as James's was, though he had taken the time to snag a robe before venturing downstairs.

"'That day in the dungeons'?" James murmured, sending a sideways glance at Remus.

Remus scowled. "Why does everyone focus on that line? It's not the point! We have to go and rescue Sirius!"

"Give the letter to you father, lad," Neil told James, who obediently passed it over.

"I can't believe Regulus wrote to you!" James hissed. "How did you manage that? What do you reckon is wrong with Sirius? When can we go and rescue him? We _are _going to rescue him, right?"

Remus sighed. "I didn't, he wrote of his own accord. I have no idea, I know as much as you do. Soon – today if I have any say in it. I guess it's up to your Dad."

James was silent for a few seconds as he matched up Remus's answers to his questions.

"Up to my Dad?" he said eventually.

"Top Auror and all," Remus explained.

"Ah. Not one for the Marauders this time then?"

"Let it never be said we don't know when to hold back when we have to."

"McGonagall would never believe her ears if she heard you saying that."

"She would. I _am _the voice of reason in the sea of lunacy that is the Marauders. In spite of any furry little problems that might get in my way."

Angela and Mrs. Potter were sitting on one of the uncomfortably ornate sofas nearby, their eyes flitting between James and Remus, and Neil and Mr. Potter who were poring over Regulus's letter and talking in low voices.

"We're going to go and get him, right, Dad?" James asked, looking to where the men were standing.

"_You're _not going anywhere," Mr. Potter said immediately.

"We are," both Remus and James said immediately.

"If you think I am letting two underage boys break into the Ancient and Moste Bloody Evil House of Black, you are sorely mistaken – no matter who you're with at the time."

Remus felt Moony rise up furiously in his chest, and didn't even realise he was growling until he noticed Mr. Potter take a shocked step back, his wand suddenly pointed at Remus's chest.

"Dad, _no_!" James stepped in front of Remus quickly.

"_Werewolf!_" Mr. Potter stared first at Remus, then at James in shock.

"What?" Mrs. Potter rose to her feet and reached out to drag James away from Remus. James furiously shook off her hand and moved to stand in front of his friend again. He was joined quickly by Neil and Angela.

Remus felt fear rise like bile in his throat. Images of silver-tipped whips and axes rose in his mind. Mr. Potter was a head Auror. With just one word from him, Remus could be sentenced to a werewolf reservation or even to death. He swayed and felt his back hit the mantelpiece, knees giving out so he slid to the floor behind the protective wall formed by his pack mate and family.

"Your son is a werewolf?" Remus could see through the small gap between James's and Neil's legs that Mr. Potter's wand was shaking slightly. He had lowered it the moment James had stepped in front of Remus. "It all makes sense now – why he's so sickly. That nickname the boys give him; Moony!"

Remus gave a terrified whimper, completely unable to help himself. In the back of his mind, a part of him screamed _'Coward! What kind of Gryffindor are you? You're practically wetting yourself. You're fifteen, you idiot! Coward! Coward!'_

"An incurable disease," Mrs.. Potter murmured, her voice sounding very strange. "Could be fatal, Sirius said."

Remus vaguely remembered the conversation he had eavesdropped on between Sirius and Mrs. Potter so long ago. How Sirius had defended him and protected his secret. The thought of Sirius caused him to give another whimper-growl. He wished Moony would back off a bit so he could think straight, but the wolf was in full protective mode. The only reason it wasn't attacking the threat was because one of its pack stood in the way, and Hamish shifted restlessly in his pocket against Remus's side.

"Moony?" Suddenly James was crouched in front of him, trying to look into his eyes. "Remus, it's okay. He's not going to hurt you."

"Look what you've done!" Angela's voice said furiously.

"What's wrong with him?" Mr. Potter's voice asked.

"For Merlin's sake, Harold! Put your wand away!" Some small part of Remus's mind that was not engaged with fighting back the wolf and trying to keep his bladder in check was amazed to recognise Mrs. Potter's voice. "Can't you see you're frightening the poor boy?"

"He's a werewolf," Mr.. Potter said, his voice still shell-shocked.

"And you're a damn awful Auror if you let a society's stupid prejudices stand in the way of your common sense!"

"Mum!" James's voice sounded awed.

"I wasn't…" Mr. Potter's voice sounded chastised. "It was just a shock."

"You hear that, Remus?" Angela's face appeared beside James's quickly followed by Neil's. "He's not going to turn you in. He was just surprised. Like Neil was earlier when you burst into our room."

Remus stared at her, then his eyes moved to James's face. _Pack, _Moony whispered in his mind. _Pack._

"Prongs," he whispered. "Padfoot?"

James flinched. "We're going to get him now, Moony. Remember?"

Remus struggled with himself, forcefully pushing Moony away from the forefront of his mind. The wolf reluctant backed away, calmer now that the danger was past.

"Remember, Moony?" James repeated patiently.

As Moony retreated, the full situation washed back into Remus's head again. Sirius, Regulus's letter. Going to the Black house to rescue him. "Yes," he said, and saw James's face relax. "Yes, of c-c-course. I r-remember."

"Remus, James," Neil looked at them gently. "You know you can't come. The house of Black is dangerous. We don't want you hurt."

James put a calming hand on Remus's arm as Moony growled again.

"Do you really think you can stop us?" James said quietly. "Maybe you could stop me, but you couldn't stop Moony. Not now with the wolf so close to the surface. I've never seen him like this before – fluctuating so much between him and the wolf."

"Of course we can stop you," Mrs. Potter said irritably. "You're both only fifteen and there are four of us adults. And two of us are Aurors. We're not going to let you wander into danger."

James glanced back at Remus, a question in his eyes. Remus shrank back, horrified by what he was asking. Then James's eyes flicked to the letter now scrunched in his father's hand and Remus remembered he was doing this for Sirius. He closed his eyes in resigned agreement.

"Show 'em then, Moony."

Remus took a deep breath, drew on Moony's strength and leapt. The adults weren't prepared for it and had no time to react. There was a blur of activity, punctuated by shocked shrieks and grunts of surprise. He was careful not to hurt them, but it was only a few short moments before he stood, panting, beside the antique sofa again. He had all four of the adult's wands in his hand and both he and James had their own wands aimed at them. Neil and Mr. Potter were lying winded on the floor.

"And that was without even using any magic," James commented. "We can protect ourselves."

"How did you…?" Mr. Potter was staring at Remus in amazement. Remus met his eyes, then slowly reached out his hand to grip the wooden arm of the sofa. He squeezed with all his strength and there was a short resistance before it cracked and splintered.

"Werewolf," he reminded the man, shame and self-loathing colouring his cheeks and causing him to duck his head.

"And we're coming with you to get Sirius," James added, moving closer to Remus so their shoulders pressed together. "He's one of our pack. We never leave anyone behind."

"This isn't a game, boys," Mr. Potter said, his face serious.

"No, it isn't," Remus agreed softly, shoving Moony back roughly and struggling to keep his voice steady. "It's not a g-game at all. They really are my pack, and Moony won't rest until we have Sirius safely away from that house."

"We don't know what we might find," Neil said. "Lads your age shouldn't be subjected to that."

Remus gave a short, bitter laugh. "Too late for that, Neil. Believe me. Both James and I know what to expect. We know this isn't a stupid game or adventure. We, of all people, know how serious this might be."

There was a long silence as Remus and James stood tensely, waiting for the decision. Eventually Neil sighed. "They're not going to give up. I should know that by now."

"Neil – you're just going let – " Angela began.

"It's better they come with Harold and me, than sneaking in afterwards. You know perfectly well they're capable of that."

Angela's posture sagged and she nodded. Mr. Potter looked sternly at the boys. "Very well. Keep close. If either of you wonder off, you will be so severely punished, you'll be scrubbing cauldrons in your old age home by the time you've worked it off."

Remus felt relief fill him and held out the adults' wands for them to take.

"I'll stay here," Mrs. Potter said. "Just in case it all goes wrong and I need to contact Albus."

"I'm coming," Angela said stubbornly. "He came for Remus. It's the least I can do for the poor boy. Plus, I can help keep an eye on these two."

"House elves," Neil said suddenly. "The house will be free of people today, but what about the house elves?"

"Obliviate works on them," Mr. Potter told him. We'll just have to make sure we do them all before we leave. We may need them to find Sirius and retrieve all his things."

"They won't tell us anything," James said. "You know what house elves are like about their masters."

His father gave a grim smile and muttered under his breath as he waved his wand. A few moments later, there was a clutter from his study and a vial of clear liquid flew through the door and into his hand. "Verituserum. Also works on house elves, though you need a much smaller dosage."

"Isn't that illegal?" Angela asked with trepidation. She worked in the Magical Creatures Department at the Ministry, and Remus knew she was uncomfortable with any hint of mistreatment towards non-human beings.

"Of course not, my love," Neil said cheerfully. "Nor is breaking into the manor house of one of the darkest pure-blood families in Europe, obliviating their house elves and kidnapping their son. You have nothing to worry about."

"I feel a bit sick," Mrs. Potter murmured.

"Too late to back out now, Mum," James said. "And this is all taking too long." Before anyone had time to react, he grabbed a handful of floo powder off the mantelpiece, flung it into the flames and thrust his head into them. Remus assumed he was only allowed to mouth the address as the swirling stopped and James tensed in surprise.

Remus reached out and gripped James around the waist, knowing his friend had a habit of rushing head first into situations without analysing the dangers first.

"What do you see?" he asked. Both of them ignored the various cries of "James, get out the fire!" and "_This _is why I didn't want them to come!"

"It's empty," James's voice echoed back, sounding distant. "Bloody hell! And I thought _our _house was bad with the antiques and pureblood memorabilia.

"Remus, lad, pull him back through," Neil instructed him. "There's no way I'm letting two fifteen-year-old Gryffindor boys go through first."

Remus reluctantly tugged his resisting friend back into the Potter's lounge, allowing Neil and Mr.. Potter to approach the fire. Mr. Potter briefly thrust his head into the flames to check that the coast was clear before stepping all the way through. He was followed quickly by Neil, Angela, James, and Remus.

As soon as Remus looked up and round the Blacks' formal lounge, he knew what James meant by his earlier exclamation. While Potter Manor was decorated in ancient pureblood antiques, it always gave the air of old-world elegance. The walls were painted in pale colours, and the ceilings arched smoothly, high above the rooms. The furniture was polished and intricate, and emanated peace and plenty of loving history. The hum of old, gentle magic seemed to permeate every room.

In contrast, the Blacks' lounge in which they now stood was panelled from floor to high, shadowy ceiling in dark wood. The furniture was heavy and gothic and Remus's sensitive senses were buzzing with the heavy, malicious weight of dark magic that hung in the air. As he stepped out of the fireplace, he was confronted with a massive family tree tapestry that took up nearly the whole of one wall. It was a dark forest green and curling black stitching formed the names of the Black family going back generations.

"The air tastes old and wicked," he murmured. "I can feel it tugging at the wolf…no, more at the dark magic that ties the wolf to me."

James shot a worried glance at him. "You gonna be all right?"

Remus's mouth twisted into a grim smile. "Sirius grew up here. How did this place not poison him completely?"

"Come on, lads," Neil said, motioning them towards the door through which Mr. Potter and Angela had already gone.

Remus and James followed him into the dark hall.

"You said they lock him in the cellar?" Mr. Potter questioned, looking towards the stairs, and then the door that led down a short passage to the kitchen.

"Yes," James began. "When he –"

"Shh!" Remus interrupted him suddenly. He pointed to the massive portrait that hung just behind James in the hall. He could just make out Walburga Black's figure snoozing in the frame.

"Good God!" Angela exclaimed in a whisper. "What a disturbing thing to come face-to-face with every time you come down the stairs."

Remus couldn't help sniggering at her expression. "Sirius was going to get his own back by using permanent sticking charms to attach pictures of motorbikes and naked muggle girls to his wall."

"He _didn't_." Angela looked shocked and Remus felt the humour leave him at the thought of the repercussions.

"Knowing Padfoot, he did," James said solemnly.

"Come on then," Mr. Potter said, leading the way to the kitchen, followed closely by Neil. Before Remus had even entered the room, there were two joint shouts if "_Incarcerous!_" and when he peered round the door, four house elves lay on the floor dressed in ragged scraps of black cloth that served as loin cloths, and glowering at the intruders furiously as they struggled against the magical ropes that held them.

Mr. Potter grabbed one of the little creatures and placed it on a kitchen chair. He waved his wand to remove the rope that gagged the mouth, then, ignoring the shill protests, he tipped the house elf's head back and placed a single drop of veritaserum into its tongue. The house elf immediately calmed, its eyes growing glassy.

"What's your name?" Mr. Potter asked calmly.

"Kreacher." Its voice was dull and monotone.

"Who do you serve?"

"I serve the Moste Ancient and Noble House of Black and its masters."

"And where is your master, Sirius?"

Kreacher twitched as he struggled to fight against the pull of the potion, but his voice remained impassive as he said, "The blood traitor is locked and warded in the cellar for besmirching and dishonouring the Noble house of Black with his disgraceful Gryffindor tendencies."

Remus felt a low growl escape from his throat as he realised who had put those thoughts into the house elf's head. James put a calming hand on his arm as Angela approached the door that led down to the cellars and opened it.

"There's a passage at the bottom of the stairs," she said. "It looks like there are a couple of cellars that lead off."

The other four followed her into the dim passage, Kreacher still bound and floating along behind Mr.. Potter like a balloon from hell's funfair.

"Lumos," Neil muttered and held his lit wand above his head. It revealed a short passage with two doors set in the wall along one side. The walls were made of damp stone and the air was cold and seemed to cling to the skin like oil.

"Which one is Sirius in?" Mr. Potter addressed the question to Kreacher who was still under the effects of veritaserum, but it was Remus who answered. He had stiffened as soon as he entered the passage, his nostrils flaring as he was bombarded with the scent of hunger, misery, wine, and Sirius.

Now he bolted towards the door in the right and hammered in it. "_Sirius! Sirius!_" a tiny part of him flinched at how raw and desperate his voice sounded, but most of him was concentrating on finding some way to reach the boy on the other side of the door. For once, both Remus and Moony were united in the same goal.

There was no answer from beyond the door, though Remus's sensitive ears picked up the sound of something shifting just beyond the door. "_Padfoot!_"

"Stand aside, lad," Neil said, putting a hand on Remus's shoulder, then withdrawing it quickly when Moony took a snap at it. The man sighed and pointed his wand over Remus's shoulder instead and clearly said, "Alohamora!"

Remus wasn't entirely sure what happened next. One minute he was sitting pressed and scrabbling against the door, and the next he was flung back through the air, his back making hard contact with the opposite wall and completely knocking the wind out of him.

"Moony!" His head spun as he stared blearily up at James who leaned over him worriedly.

"Ow," he murmured. He glanced to the side and saw Angela hovering over Neil who also looked pained and winded, and Mr. Potter stared with a darkened expression at the door.

Kreacher was cackling with glee. "It's a spell!" he informed them, as he bobbed maliciously above their heads. The numbing effects of the veritaserum were clearly beginning to wear off. "Only the caster can break it. You'll never get the nasty blood-traitor out. Despicable mudbloods and traitors that you are." He cackled again, sounding more than a little demented. "The mistress cast it to keep Master Reggie out, but instead it's you who get the bump!" He broke down giggling again.

"Moony?" The quiet plea was so unexpected that even Kreacher was surprised into silence. It came from the other side of the door sounding slightly muffled and close to the ground.

Remus immediately levered himself to his feet and hurried to the door closely followed by James. Careful not to touch the spelled wood, he crouched down and tried to peer through the thin crack beneath. "Padfoot?"

There was a rather hysterical laugh from the other side. "MoonyMoony! C'me to rescue meee!" Sirius sang, and Remus felt his heart clench in worry at the lack of sanity in his voice.

"Sirius, do you know what spell is on the door, mate?" James asked gently, kneeling beside Remus. Remus glanced at him and saw his friend also looked a little sick.

Sirius giggled again and they heard snuffling at the crack beneath the door. "I c'n almos' smell you, Moony, Prongsie," he sang again. "Sush pretty dreams 'n luci…luci…nations…"

Remus, who had his face near the ground, didn't miss the strong whiff of wine that came under the door on Sirius's breath. "He's drunk," he told the others. "On wine."

At the sound of his voice Sirius gave a delighted shriek of laughter that sounded about as sane as Kreachers had. "_Moony__!_ Wunnerful, marv'lis Moony! I dream…I dream you…I don' say 'feets'…"

"Wine?" Angela questioned in disbelief. "How?"

"It is a wine cellar," Neil pointed out. He glared at Kreacher. "Have you been feeding him? Giving him water?"

Kreacher grinned madly at him. "Only when mistress says. Good mistress…she hurts mudbloods and Muggle-lovers like you."

"Have you found what spell is on the door yet?" Neil asked Mr.. Potter, who had been gingerly running wand-scans up and down the wood.

"It's a dark spell," Mr. Potter said grimly. "I fear the elf might be correct. It can only be broken by the caster."

"But what does it _do_?" James said, obviously trying not to wince in pity as Sirius started singing his 'Moony will rescue me' song again.

Kreacher nodded delightedly. "No people can get in!" he cackled. "Only house elves and little scuttling mousies!"

"Oh, shut up!" Angela scowled and cast a silencing spell on the house elf.

At the word 'scuttling', Sirius's song broke off and he began to whimper. "They ge' me Moony!" There was shuffling against the door. "Shadows and dark-things. Creeping 'n scuttling 'n pouncing. I watch 'n watch… They're here!"

Remus felt his heart scrunch up in his chest. "We'll get you out, Padfoot. Just hang in there."

"Damn!" Mr. Potter lifted his want away from the door again and swept a hand through his scruffy locks in a distinctly James-like gesture. "There's nothing I can think of to break the bloody thing. Maybe we can force one of the elves to go in and get him if it only applies to people."

"No such luck," Angela said. "I work in the Magical Creatures department, and I can tell you imperious doesn't work on house elves – even if we were desperate enough to cast an unforgivable. Their innate desire to serve their masters overpowers it."

"_Don't _touch the door, James!" Mr. Potter snapped at his son, and Remus glanced round in time to see James jerking his hand away from the wood. "It's part of the curse," Mr. Potter continued, his eyes narrowed at the door. "You can't touch the wood. I doubt they even put a proper locking spell on it from the outside. No one can touch it as it is. You'll suffer serious burns that spread like a rash if you do."

"Well, why don't we break down the door without touching it?" Angela suggested. "If the spell was only put up to deter Sirius's brother, they wouldn't expect him to go to such serious measures."

Mr. Potter grinned. "You know, that might just work! Sirius, we'll need you to stand away from the door."

The pitiful muttering from the other side of the door paused for a moment. "Moony?"

"Sirius, we need you to move away from the door," Remus told him gently. "We're going to blast it away."

"No," Sirius moaned. "Nononono! Shadows there. Dark thingies."

"It'll only be for a few second, Padfoot. I swear."

"Swear, Moony, Swear?"

"I swear. When I say go, run away from the door, okay?"

There was a small sound of assent from the other side of the door and Remus looked up at Mr. Potter. "Ready?"

The man raised his wand and nodded. "Go Sirius!"

There was a shuffling on the other side of the door as Sirius moved away and Mr. Potter closed his eyes and muttered the blasting curse. For the second time in the last ten minutes, Remus was blasted off his feet and ducked his head as splintering wood rained down. James landed heavily next to him.

"What the _hell_?" Neil exclaimed. "It should have blasted _in_. Not out."

"Damn!" Mr. Potter said again, squinting through the settling dust. "They put the spell on the doorframe as well." Remus peered towards the door and saw that – while the door had indeed been blasted away, none of the wreckage had landed inside the cellar. It was as if someone had cast a protego shield on the door frame.

"Sirius, mate – you there?" James, staggered to the doorway.

"_Don't _go in!" Mr. Potter said quickly.

"I wasn't going to. I'm not as thick as I look."

"James?" A bedraggled looking figure crawled out from behind a barrel.

"Sirius!" Remus was shocked when he saw his friend. Sirius was a mess. He was rumpled and dusty, and so thin that there were deep shadows beneath his cheekbones. His hair hung limply round his face. When he saw Remus and James, though, his face lit up and he flung himself at the doorway.

"Sirius – _don't!_" The words were only just our of Remus's mouth when Sirius seemed to bounce off the invisible shield and sprawled back on the floor.

"Are you hurt?" Remus asked anxiously. "Are you burnt?"

Sirius stared at him. "No. Wh'can't I g't out, Moony?" he reached out and banged a thin hand against the shield from his side.

"Obviously the burning curse only works from the outside," Mr. Potter said musingly. "Don't worry, Sirius. We'll think of something to get you out."

Sirius's eyes moved to Mr. Potter's face. "Misser Potter?" His eyes trailed over the rest of them. "Pr'fessor Anders?"

"We came to rescue you, Padfoot," Remus told him.

Sirius blinked, shaking his head as if trying to clear it. "Stom'ch hurts," he told them. "'N I feel sick."

"We'll get you out as soon as we can, love," Angela told him, crouching down beside Remus and James. "We just have to work out a way to get past the spell. It's spelled to curse people who try to get in."

Remus stilled suddenly at the words. _Spelled to curse people… Human people? _He thought. He glanced at Sirius who was curled up on the floor facing them. It broke his heart to see his normally strong and bouncy friend looking so pitiful. _House elves can get in. Mice can get in according to Kreacher. Non-human things. Like me. _Then he almost slapped himself as he remembered. _I ran down the steps and hammered on the door earlier. I was fine. How could we have forgotten that? People do get stupid in tense situations._

He knew the adults would never agree to test his theory – no matter what evidence he presented them with, so without warning them, he took a breath and plunged forward into the doorway in front of him.

"_REMUS!_" Four voices yelled, and Angela made a grab for him, but missed, because Remus passed through as easily as though there were nothing there.

"What?" James reached for the doorway. "How – "

"Don't touch it, Prongs!" Remus told him sharply.

"_You_ did."

"It only works on people," Remus told him grimly. "Not on creatures – house elves, mice, werewolves."

"Moony!" Before James could answer, Remus found himself being embraced from behind by what felt like a giant, walking toast rack. He turned and put his arms around Sirius as well. "Though' y'were a dream," the boy was whispering in his ear. "Though' y'were a dream."

Remus laughed shakily. "I remember having this conversation before. And I quote your answer – 'No one could dream something as amazing as me'."

Sirius huffed a short laugh into Remus's hair, then fell silent. "Sirius?" Remus drew away a little and Sirius's head flopped back bonelessly, his eyes closed. "Oh God! What's wrong with him?" Remus stared urgently through the door to the adults.

"He's drunk as a skunk," James reminded him, but his hazel eyes were worried as he regarded their unconscious friend.

"Remus, can you manage to drag him back through?" Mr.. Potter questioned. "I think if you're holding onto him, you'll be able to pass through the barrier."

"You _think_?" Remus said, gripping Sirius to his chest tightly. "What if you're wrong and he gets all burned up?"

Mr. Potter grimaced. "Wrong choice of words there. I _know_ he'll be fine if you're holding onto him.

Remus eyes the door suspiciously. "You sure?"

"You can trust my Dad, Moony," James assured him. "He knows what he's talking about. He specialises in spells like this as an Auror."

"Besides," Mr. Potter added. "He wouldn't get burned up if I was wrong, he would just not be able to go through like before. Just try and drag him through here."

Remus lessened his hold on Sirius slightly when he realised the boy's breathing was becoming laboured, then shifted his grip and stood up easily with Sirius in his arms, bridal style. He didn't miss James's knowing smirk and scowled at him before noticing Mr. Potter's gaping expression.

"Werewolf," he reminded the man.

"Right…" Mr. Potter replied faintly. "It just looks a little odd – you know, with you being so small and all."

"I'm not _that _small."

Remus approached the door and took a deep breath. Then he took a deliberate step through it. With Sirius in his arms, the spell tried to fight back and it felt a bit like walking through warm jelly laced with the dirty tang of dark magic.

"Gross," he muttered, shuddering as he popped through the other side. "I feel like I need a shower."

"Is he still breathing?" Neil asked.

Remus glanced down at Sirius's rising and falling chest. "Yeah."

"Then let's get going. The sooner we get out of this hell hole the better. And we still need to obliviate the house elves and get Sirius's stuff from his room. You want me to carry him, Remus?"

Remus tightened his grip on Sirius, determined not to let the boy go until he was sure he was safe. "No."

"All right," Neil said. "You boys follow on after us."

Neil, Mr. Potter and Angela led the way back into the kitchen with James and Remus following.

"And be careful not to wake up the old bat in the hall," Angela said over her shoulder. "Obliviate doesn't work on portraits."

Remus thought back to Sirius's letter describing his portrait-mothers constant stream of verbal abuse. "I wonder if Avada Kedavra does?" he muttered to James.

"I'm game to try if you are," James said grimly, casting a glance at Sirius's wasted form.


	51. A Noble Steed Called Hamish

**Hi! Well, not such a long wait for this chapter. My beta is going away for a while, so the next one might either be a bit late, or I'll post it unbeta'd and fix it when she comes back. I hope you enjoy with chapter. Remember to review. I love hearing your views on the story. **

**Moonsign x**

_We're our own dragons as well as our own heroes, and we have to rescue ourselves from ourselves._  
_(Tom Robbins)**  
**_

**SIRIUS:**

When Sirius woke he couldn't decide if he was the most comfortable, or the most uncomfortable he had been for a very long time. For one thing, he was lying on something soft – not the stone floor he had been on for what seemed like forever. He was warm, and his stomach was not knotted up and aching with hunger. The fact that he was clear-headed enough to be aware of these changes was a pleasant surprise as well.

However, although the deep-bone cold and gnawing hunger were now gone, his whole lower abdomen burned with an insistent, throbbing pain and his head ached so much, he didn't dare move at all for fear it would crack open and spill its contents onto the softness beneath him.

Sirius struggled to wake properly, forcefully dragging his mind away from the depths of his half-sleep and towards the painful state of wakefulness. As his mind became more aware, he could make out voices speaking quietly somewhere above him.

"…Severe alcohol poisoning, serious damage to the liver and kidneys, dehydration, stomach ulcers from a mixture of stress and starvation, mild hypothermia – honestly Albus the list goes on and on. You cannot let this child return to those people. They're not fit to be guardians."

"I know, Poppy." Sirius vaguely recognised the voice as Professor Dumbldore's. "But the Blacks are a powerful family and have links in all areas of the Ministry. This isn't a case like Mr. Lupin's. If we file a child-abuse case against them, there could be some serious repercussions and there is no guarantee and we would win. If we didn't, can you not imagine how bad it could become for him if we fail and he has to go back to them after they have been subjected to such public scrutiny? The best we can do is try to find a way for them to allow Sirius to stay at Hogwarts or at the Potters' over the holidays without making it official."

"And how would we manage that?" Professor McGonagall's voice cut in. "Do you plan on trying to outwit a family as Slytherin as the Blacks?"

"Perhaps," Professor Dumbledore said, "they will disown him on their own. Perhaps what he did to earn himself the punishment he suffered was enough for them to willingly wash their hands of him."

"I wouldn't hold my breath," McGonagall said darkly. "The Blacks hold onto their own – if only to make them suffer for their betrayals."

"Well, they certainly…"

Sirius gave up the fight against sleep and felt his mind swimming as the rest of Madame Pomfrey's words slurred out of his understanding.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The second time Sirius woke, it was to the unmistakeable good-natured bickering of his fellow Marauders. His head was pounding painfully, and the ache in his stomach gnawed persistently at his backbone, but the journey from sleep to wakefulness seemed a lot easier this time. He lay with his eyes closed, still on the verge of sleep as he listened to his friends.

"…Seriously, Wormtail, mate. You know he can't eat all that anytime soon. Madame Pomfrey says he'll have a weak stomach for a while. Where did you get it all anyway?"

"Kicheds," Peter answered. His voice was muffled and it sounded as though he had a blocked nose. "Ad Hodeydukes."

"You sneaked into Hogsmeade alone?" Remus said, sounding stern.

"Doh!" Peter defended himself quickly. "I bought it whed by pare'ts drobbed be off at the school. He cad save it for whed he's feeli'g better. Bake sub space for be to put it all dowd."

"There's no space anywhere for all that food," James said with amusement. "And Sirius won't want those liquorice wands, anyway."

"Why?" Peter asked, sounding hurt.

"Well, they're jammed up your nostrils, Pete," Remus pointed out kindly. "It's a bit unhygienic."

There was a clattering from the bedside table as Peter dropped his offerings onto it, then two popping sounds as he removed the liquorice wands from his nose. "My hands were full. I had no other way to carry them. He can wash them off."

"He'd probably prefer it if you just ate them," Remus said. "You know - because of his weak stomach and all."

"Oh, all right," Peter said, slightly mollified.

Sirius felt his heart warming as he listened to his friends. He had utterly convinced himself that they had all been a dream and to hear them here sounding so solid and real was so wonderful, he thought he might actually pop with joy. With an effort, he forced his eyelids open and blinked fuzzily at the dark blurs above him that gradually resolved themselves into the form of the three Marauders crowded around his bed in the Hogwarts hospital wing. Remus and James were sitting in chairs beside his bed, looking at Peter who was standing by the bedside table with two liquorice wands in his hands. It was Peter who glanced up and noticed Sirius's open eyes.

"Padfoot!" His face broke into a delighted grin.

Remus and James swung round and yelled in delight when they saw he was awake. Remus moved to sit on the edge of the bed and slid his arms under Sirius's shoulders, pulling him into a gentle hug. Sirius sagged gratefully against him, his head dropping so his faced nuzzled against the werewolf's pale neck. He took a deep breath, taking in that wonderful, familiar autumn scent, and comforting warmth. Remus squirmed a little and chuckled. "You're huffing down my neck, Padfoot."

"Mmm," Sirius answered, deliberately huffing harder and enjoying the way Remus's slim body shuddered in response.

"How're you feeling, mate?" James asked.

Sirius lifted his face and grimaced at him. "I think my brains have melted and trickled out my ears. And my stomach is trying to gnaw through my spinal chord."

"Alcohol poisoning," Remus said matter-of-factly. "Malnutrition, dehydration, hypothermia – "

"Ergh! Stop," Sirius begged. "You're making me nauseous with all those big words."

Remus pulled back a little and smiled at him before leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose. "Sorry, Padfoot."

"What happened?" Sirius asked. "In small words please. None over two syllables. Pete, why don't you tell me?"

"Hey!" Peter looked insulted. "I know big words. Besides – I wasn't there. These two gits didn't bother to fetch me when Remus got the letter."

"What letter?"

"From Regulus," Remus told him.

"Reg?" Sirius felt his stomach give an even more painful lurch. He had a vague memory of a conversation that ended in him screaming 'I hate you, I hate you!' to his little brother.

"Yeah," Remus said, lifting his hand to the back of Sirius's head and guiding it back to rest on his shoulder. "I've got it here, somewhere. I saved it for you to look at before I destroyed it."

He shifted and pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from his back pocket. Sirius turned his head without lifting it and scanned the short note. Guilt surged its way up his gullet and he thought he might vomit. "'That day in the dungeons?'" He questioned, his voice strangled.

Remus was still for a long time, and it didn't escape Sirius's notice that James and Peter were looking curiously at him as well, waiting for his answer. Eventually, Remus sighed and pressed his cheek to the side of Sirius's head. "He was there that day I got beat up," he said. Sirius stiffened and Remus's arms tightened round him. "He didn't want to hurt me. They made him do it."

"_Made _him?" Sirius was furious. If his head wasn't so sore he would have leapt from the bed.

"Sirius, you of all people know he's a bit of a follower," Remus said, his voice urgent. "It wasn't his fault. They bullied him into it. They threatened to treat him the same as me if he didn't help."

"Then he should have _suffered_ rather than hurt you!" Sirius spat. In his mind, loyalty was the most important thing a person could have. He couldn't conceive how someone could betray another in that way.

"Why should he?" Remus questioned gently. "He wasn't my friend. You think it would have been better for him to have been frozen and beaten and stuffed into that alcove with me?"

Sirius was silent, fuming at the thought of his brother's actions.

"Oh, Sirius," Remus whispered. "The whole time I was there, the thing that kept me going was the knowledge that you guys would notice I was missing and wouldn't rest until you found me. And you did. You came and you carried me back to our dorm, and you patched me up and made it all okay. Regulus doesn't have friends like that. The only people he has are the other Slytherins. If he had turned on them, can you imagine how things would have been for him? He would have been alone in that snake pit with no friends. Can't you see where his loyalties have to lie?"

Sirius turned his head and pressed his face into Remus's shoulder. Tears were trying to work their way out of his eyes and he didn't want his friends to see. Remus's hand moved gently up and down his back in a gesture that was familiar from full-moon days, though Sirius was usually the one comforting.

"He came to check on me," Remus continued. "He didn't know how to break the spell, but he kept coming to check on me. If you hadn't found me, he would have gone to get you, you know. And you saw the letter. He is trying to make amends."

"I told him I hated him," Sirius mumbled into the thin fabric of Remus's worn shirt. "I was drunk and…and scared and I was begging him to let me out and he just kept saying he couldn't and I screamed and screamed that I hated him, and he screamed it back."

Apparently, the others couldn't really think of a reply to that. They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, Remus's hand continuing it's gentle journey up and down his spine. Eventually James cleared his throat.

"He was right. He couldn't have let you out. There was a curse on the door."

"A curse?" Sirius wanted to life his head, but he was sure his eyes would be red and teary so he kept it pressed against Remus's shoulder as he struggled to compose himself.

"Yeah." Remus gave a slightly bitter laugh. "A curse on the door designed to keep people out. They must have put it on to stop Regulus unlocking the door for you. They hadn't reckoned on a dark creature coming to rescue you. It was only designed to work on people."

"You're people, Moony," James said. The frustrated tone of his voice indicated that they had had this argument before. "You aren't entirely human, but you're still a person."

Remus didn't answer, but Sirius could feel the disbelief radiating from him. He knew how stubborn the werewolf could be at times, and he knew no amount of persuasion on his friends' part would get him to change his mind.

"I, for one, am glad you could get me out," Sirius said, making his voice teasing and finally lifting his head. "I can just imagine you storming in there with your armour clanking and you sword waving to rescue your handsome prince on your noble steed…"

He silently cheered as he saw Remus's expressive mouth quirk up into a reluctant grin.

"Oh, he did," James put in. "Though his noble steed was riding in his pocket, and was asleep for most of the operation, actually."

Remus laughed then, and reached down to pull a sleepy Hamish from his pocket and deposit him in Sirius's lap. "I think he did a marvellous job," Remus said. "He was keeping Moony at bay."

"Yeah," Peter put in. "He was standing there in front of the wolf with all his little spines bared and Moony just backed right off."

Sirius smiled and lifted the hedgehog up to his face. "Well, thank you very much, then, noble steed." Hamish looked at him contemplatively, then licked his nose with a tiny pink tongue.

"We saw what you did to your room," James added. I can't believe you did that, mate - stuck all that stuff on the wall."

"I was drunk on fire whiskey," Sirius told him. "I wouldn't have done it if I was sober. And when I woke there was nothing I could do. Permanent sticking charms, you know."

"Is that why they locked you down there?" Remus asked, his voice solemn. Sirius didn't miss the way he and James had exchanged an expressive glance at the mention of his drunken state.

"Yeah." Sirius scowled. "But they would have anyway. My mother was on the warpath all summer. My father was home, and he doesn't think she's been disciplining me properly, so she was trying to prove how tough she is on me."

"I'm sorry, mate," James said. "We should have made you come to my house earlier."

"You couldn't," Sirius pointed out. "Do you think I wouldn't spend all summer at your house if I could? My mother insists on me being home." His head throbbed with pain and he pressed a fist to his forehead in an effort to dull it.

"Are you in a lot of pain?" Remus asked immediately.

"My head hurts," Sirius said. "And my stomach."

"Madame Pomfrey left a painkilling potion for you," Peter said, picking it up from a nearby table and handing it over. "You're not allowed to take too many though because of your stomach."

"Do I look as rough as I feel?" Sirius asked mournfully, after swigging down the potion and making a face.

"You're as gorgeous as ever," Remus assured him, running his hand through Sirius's hair, then gently pressing him back to lie against his pillows again.

"James?" Sirius whined, not trusting his love-blinded Moony to tell him the truth.

James shrugged. "You do look a bit rough, mate. But not nearly as bad as when we got you out. You'll be fine once school starts."

"I don't want to be _fine_," Sirius insisted. "I want to be my usual gorgeous self!"

"Why?" Peter asked. "You've got Moony, and he doesn't care what you look like."

"But I want him to have someone everyone can be jealous of - who he can be proud of."

"I _am _proud of you," Remus said stubbornly. "And since we're not telling anyone about us, they wouldn't be jealous anyway."

Sirius sulked, and Remus smiled and leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead. "When you sulk like that you make creases in your lovely smooth skin," he told Sirius. Sirius immediately smoothed out his expression and James and Peter snickered.

Remus gave him a fond look. "Vain git," he murmured. "Get some more beauty sleep, why don't you?"

Sirius smiled at him, then closed his eyes obediently.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_He was alone and naked, crouched in the smallest pool of light and surrounded on all sides by pulsing, living shadows that encroached - tendril by skulking tendril – closer and closer, eating up the quivering brightness of the light pool in an effort to reach the trembling figure within. _

_Sirius could do nothing, only curl into a smaller and smaller ball as the protective lightness disappeared. It seemed to take his warmth and oxygen with it, until he was huddled, freezing and gasping for breath in the microscopic patch of light, watching helplessly as wicked chuckles filled the air and an inky tentacle of darkness reached forward to curl around his ankle. _

_Sirius screamed and screamed as the icy liquid tentacles slid over him, stealing his heat, his breath, his mind. He couldn't fight. He was frozen, and could only lie there and cry out as the chuckling shadows slowly took over his body, inch by blackened inch._

_Siriussss…they whispered his name through their demented giggles. Siriussss…BLACK. Siriussss Blaaack… Jussst like usss… Black to the core… you belong with us…Siriussss…_

"Sirius!"

Sirius's whole body jerked awake in one movement and his eyes snapped open to a dark, shadow-filled room. A black, silhouetted figure crouched over him and he scrambled away from it, trying to force his jellied muscles to work.

"Sirius, it's just me, love. _Lumos_!"

And suddenly there was light. It made him blink and shut his eyes, but he could still see it glimmering rosily through his eyelids.

"It's just me, Sirius. Adelaide Potter. James's Mum. You know me."

Slowly, Sirius opened his eyes and stared up blearily into the face of the woman standing over him. He felt his heartbeat calm as he looked at her, and felt her gently close a warm hand over his shoulder. Mrs. Potter looked worried and tired, but the hand that touched him was motherly and soothing. Sirius didn't know how long she had been sitting with him, but her dark auburn hair that was shot through with grey was beginning to escape from the elegant French knot at the back of her head, and the lines that creased her face around her eyes and mouth revealed to Sirius for the first time that James's mum was probably a lot older than he had always assumed.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently, her hand moving to run through his sweat-dampened hair.

"Mm," he mumbled. "Jus' a dream."

"A nightmare, by the sound of it. I wish I could get you some dreamless sleep potion, but it's hard on the stomach, and we don't want you to become dependent on it. Would you like some water?" She poured him a glass from the jug beside his bed and helped him to sit up and drink it.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Sirius shook his head, his eyes skittering sideways to the shadowy hospital wing beyond the safe light of her wand.

"Why don't you lie down and go to sleep?" she said, pushing him gently back against his pillows the same way Remus had earlier that day. "I'll be here to watch over you. _Nox_."

The light of her wand flicked out and Sirius felt his breath hitch in his throat. "Turn it back on! _Please_! Turn it back on!"

"Lumos."

Her face appeared again, staring at his in worry. "It's okay. I'll leave it on, I promise. Go on. Close your eyes. I'll make sure the light doesn't go out while you sleep."

Sirius sank back against his pillow, closing his eyes again. He wished he could sleep, but the shadows skittered malevolently along the edges of his consciousness. His mind whirled with the knowledge of them and refused to settle. He had a sudden craving for the obliviousness of alcohol. He longed for the calm simplicity of the drunken state where he didn't have to think and imagine and remember.

He wondered if he could persuade the Marauders to steal him some and bring it tomorrow. Then he remembered the meaningful look that James and Remus had exchanged when he mentioned his drunkenness when he hung the posters in his room, and knew it was probably useless. They probably thought he was a closet alcoholic, which was so far from the truth it was laughable.

He wasn't an alcoholic. He just needed the effects of it to simplify his thoughts and keep the shadows and memories at bay. It was practically medicinal. He would have to think of a way to get some soon, before the shadows invaded his mind again and probed through his brain with their slimy tendrils and slowly tore apart his sanity.


	52. The Bronze Smell of Fear

**Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and the Marauders belongs to JKR and the Warner Brothers…and maybe other people I don't know about as well, but definitely not to me. I just like playing with the characters a bit.**

_**I can choose to accelerate my disease to an alcoholic death or incurable insanity, **_

_**or I can choose to live within my thoroughly human condition.**_

**_(Mercedes McCambridge)_  
**

**REMUS:**

"Moony?"

Remus turned from where he was curled up on the wide common room windowsill staring up at the three-quarters-full moon and gave James a strained smile.

"You alright, mate?" the hazel-eyed boy asked, eying Remus with concern.

Remus pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them to give James room to sit beside him. "Yes, I suppose so."

"No you're not. 'Course you're not." James pulled himself up onto the windowsill so his legs dangled over the edge, his back to the glass. The common room was deathly quiet without the usual rowdy hoard of Gryffindors. Remus, Peter and James rattled round in Gryffindor Tower like dried peas in a tin, and Remus couldn't help but wish that the summer holidays would end so that everything could go back to normal.

James was silent for a long moment, then sighed and ran his hand through his messy hair. "It's been a week and a half now. You know, I thought that once we had him rescued and he was in the hospital wing everything would be fine. I mean, I knew he would be injured, but I didn't know he would…" James trailed off and gave his hair a frustrated tug. "I mean, _you_ didn't come back half insane and afraid of the dark in second year."

Remus hated the implication that Sirius was weak - especially that he was weaker than Remus, when Remus knew it was the other way around. "Yes I did," he said, his voice uncharacteristically hard. "Before that time there was never post-moon Moony. My mind cracked and the wolf slotted himself into the gap so it couldn't heal. Some things leave permanent scars, Prongs – and not just physical ones. And I may not have been afraid of the dark, but I came back utterly terrified of silver, and the Ministry, and of being touched, and of myself."

James reached out and put a tentative hand on Remus's arm, his eyes filled with apology behind his glasses. "You're right. I'm sorry, Moony. I shouldn't have said that."

Remus dropped his chin onto his knees and stared at James. "You mustn't blame Sirius," he told his friend. "He didn't snap from a few weeks locked alone and starving and cold in a pitch black cellar with no hope of escape. He snapped from almost sixteen years of constant hatred and abuse at the hands of the only people in his life who should have loved him unconditionally. I know it's hard to understand because you have wonderful parents who care for you and spoil you, and who have even taken Sirius under their wings, but really it's too little, and too late. The damage was done a long time ago."

James patted Remus's arm, looking awkward. His mouth moved silently for a bit before he cleared his throat and said; "He's lucky to have someone like you. Someone who get him, I mean. You're good for each other. I'm glad you got together." He coughed and looked embarrassed at the sentiment, glancing away and scratching the new, thin stubble growing on his fifteen-year-old chin, as if to reassure himself of his manliness.

Remus hid a smile and turned his head to look out the window. He knew that only the Marauders ever saw this side of James. To everyone else he seemed only arrogant, popular and a little bit cruel in his teasing. He wondered whether he should mention to James that perhaps he had more chance with Lily if he took down those shields, though he doubted his friend even knew he had them.

"I should tell Neil and Angela about us – Sirius and me, I mean," Remus said instead, taking pity on James who was shifting uncertainly in the emotion-tinged silence. "But I can't bring myself to do it now with all this other stress and my transformation in a week and everything."

"You have plenty of time. Don't worry about it now, mate. Don't feel guilty."

Remus gave James an amused side-long glance. "What do you think of Snape?"

"Snivellus?" James scowled. "What the hell has he got to do with all this?" His eyes widened. "He doesn't fancy you, does he? I'll hex him for you if you like. Can I hex him?" he made pleading eyes and Remus laughed.

"No, James. I just had to check it was you. You were demonstrating alarming amounts of empathy and compassion and I thought you might have been replaced with an impostor. I needed to be reassured of your homicidal tendencies."

"Snivellus-cidal tendencies. I don't want to maim everyone I meet."

"Slytherin-cidal tendencies," Remus suggested and James gave a crooked smile. He shoved his glasses up his nose and leaned back against the window, kicking his heels against the wall beneath the windowsill. "I'm guessing you want to borrow the cloak again tonight?"

"If you don't mind. Your mum has a habit of hanging round the hospital wing at night."

"Poor Moony," James smiled. "Have you had a single moment alone with him yet?"

"Only when he's been asleep," Remus said wryly.

James tilted his head, a wicked look in his eyes. "Ooh, Remus. Does Padfoot know about this kink of yours?"

Remus felt his eyes widen and he cuffed James around the head. "Get your mind out the gutter, Potter. You know perfectly well that's not what I meant."

"Sorry," James said, looking completely unrepentant. "Do you know that you actually _glow _scarlet when you blush?"

Remus blushed even more. "Shut up."

James grinned for a moment, then sobered. "When're you going?" he asked.

"In half an hour. Madame Pomfrey should be asleep by then."

"I'll get you the cloak." James shoved himself off the windowsill and headed up the stairs to the dorm.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

As he had done every night since Sirius's rescue, Remus silently made his way to the hospital wing under the protection of James's invisibility cloak. The Marauder's Map – almost completed now, bar a few kinks that needed to be ironed out - was open in Remus's hand, and he was relieved to note that Mrs. Potter wasn't in the hospital wing this night as she often was. On those nights, Remus was forced to remain under the cloak, keeping silent vigil from a distance as he watched Mrs. Potter stroke Sirius's hair back from his face and sooth him from his nightmares.

He slipped into the hospital wing, and his sensitive nose was immediately met with the scent of fear emanating from Sirius's bed – a slightly metallic-bronze smell that prompted Remus to hurry over to the bed where Sirius tossed restlessly, his face twisted as he let out a strangled whine of panic. There was an everlasting candle flickering on the bedside cabinet.

Remus leaned over and gently gripped his shoulders giving them a small shake. "Sirius! Padfoot! Wake up - it's just a nightmare. Wake up!"

Sirius flinched away from his hands and blank grey eyes snapped open to stare up at Remus's face for a moment. Remus moved one of his hands to brush damp, black hair away from Sirius's forehead. "It's just me. It's Remus."

"Moony…" Sirius's voice was a tentative croak.

"Yes. It's Moony. Come on Padfoot. Wake up for me, baby. Wake up properly."

Sirius's face twisted again into another strained expression, and it was a moment before Remus realised he was trying to smile. "Y'call…y'call m'baby," he rasped.

Remus coughed out a short laugh. "To be honest with you, I think I was channelling my mum. My real mum. I don't remember loads about her, but I remember she used to wake me up from nightmares saying that."

Sirius's face screwed up as his eyes cleared a little, obviously beginning to shake off the nightmare. "You ruined it now, Moony!"

"What?" Remus smiled. "You like me calling you 'baby'?"

Sirius shrugged a little, eyes skittering away. "You don't usually use a pet name for me." Remus reflected that it was a rare moment when he saw Sirius like this. Half asleep, shy, and with all his determinedly 'manly' shields down. He thought about how much he enjoyed the little shiver Sirius caused to run through him every time he used the word 'babe'.

"Well then by all means, cupcake," he teased, leaning forward to kiss Sirius's sweaty forehead which creased into a scowl under his lips.

"Not that!"

"Honeybun?"

"No!"

"Snookums?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Darling little sausage?"

"I am nobody's darling little sausage, and you would do well to remember that, Lupin." Sirius tried to look menacing, but with his hair ruffled, his eyes swollen with sleep and the remnants of his disturbed dreams, he only succeeded in looking mildly constipated.

"You look mildly constipated," Remus told him.

"Did you come here to insult me?"

"Among other things."

Sirius's eyes gleamed in the flickering light of the candle. "What other things?"

"I come bearing gifts of from the far off land of Honeydukes." Remus pulled a small pile of sweets and chocolates out of his robe pocket and put them on the cabinet beside the candle.

"Any of that been up your nostrils?" Sirius asked.

"What? No!"

"Just checking Pete hadn't started a trend." Sirius groaned and curled onto his side, his arm moving to press against his stomach.

"Is it really bad?" Remus asked, his light mood vanishing. "Madame Pomfrey left out a painkilling potion. But only one. You know you can't have too many."

"Just give me the damned thing," Sirius begged.

Remus picked up the vial and handed it to him and Sirius swallowed the contents quickly.

"Lie on your back," Remus instructed, pressing Sirius's shoulder back against the bed. The other boy reluctantly uncurled.

"What're you doing?" Sirius asked, his voice still strained with pain.

Remus hesitated, suddenly feeling nervous. He wasn't sure what was making him so bold, but he thought it might have been his fuzzy post-moon memories involving a feeling of warm, safe arms around him, and a gentle hand running up and down his back. The rhythmic movement of Sirius's hand rubbed away the aches that plagued him and soothed the tense muscles of his back.

"Just lie still," he told Sirius quietly. "I'm going to try help with the pain."

"How?"

Remus gathered his Gryffindor courage and reached out to gently pull up Sirius's pyjama top, exposing the other boy's still starved-looking stomach.

"Moony!" Sirius looked shocked. "What are you doing? It better not be anything new and sexy. I'm not feeling exactly feisty at the moment."

Remus flushed, but he set his jaw bravely. "It's not sexy. I'm just trying to help you." He sent Sirius a pleading look, and Sirius's expression softened. Since that first impulsive time in the bathroom, Remus had rarely initiated a kiss or any other intimate moment (bar those moments after the full moons where he wasn't in his right mind). He just didn't have the self confidence and dreaded that he might do something Sirius hated that would cause the other boy to dump him. He knew Sirius was aware of this, so he wasn't surprised when the bigger boy reached out and took his hand, guiding it to his stomach.

"Don't be scared, Moony. You know I would tell you if you did anything I didn't like. I won't ever be angry at you just for trying something new."

Sirius's stomach was tight and warm under his hand, dipping far below his clearly-defined ribcage. Remus could feel the tense muscles spasming with pain. The potion he had taken was mild and took a while to work – the only kind Sirius's delicate stomach didn't reject. "Tell me if I hurt you," Remus said.

Slowly, he began running his hand over the pain-tensed area, lightly at first, then gradually increasing the pressure when he felt the muscles begin to relax a little with a mixture of the potion and the gentle massage.

"God, Moony," Sirius breathed, his voice betraying his relief. "How did you know how to do that?"

"It's something I do before the full moon sometimes. You know how my muscles begin preparing for the change and start to spasm and tense up. I find it helps. And it's even better if someone else is doing it. You do it sometimes after the full moon – rub your hand up and down my back. I don't remember much, but I remember that. It helps relax me."

"It feels good. That damn potion doesn't really make a lot of difference." Sirius closed his eyes and Remus saw his whole body relax as the pain began to leave him. He massaged both hands up to the base of Sirius's ribcage, then down to the waistband of his pyjama bottoms, then moved them across Sirius's belly and along his sides. In spite of his assurances to Sirius, he couldn't help finding the whole situation oddly erotic. Sirius's bellybutton was a neat oval against his pale, pure-blood skin. A line of the soft dark hair trailed down from it and disappeared below the elastic of his pyjamas. The little groans of relief and enjoyment did nothing to lessen Remus's problem.

"I thought you said this wasn't going to be sexy," Sirius's voice teased after a while, sounding rather drowsy.

Remus jerked his hands away guiltily. "It wasn't meant to be."

Sirius opened his eyes and smiled. "I never said I was complaining, babe. Don't stop."

Remus moved his hands away completely and clenched them in his lap. He wondered if Sirius was fighting arousal as much as he was. Judging by the slightly-more-bulging-than-usual bump at the front of the boy's pyjama bottoms (that Remus was trying desperately to avoid looking at), he was. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Sirius seemed to wake from his drowsy state and looked at Remus in concern. "What's wrong, Moony?"

"Nothing. I just don't want to accidentally take advantage of you while you're not well."

"We're together, Remus. It wouldn't be taking advantage."

Remus shook his head, unable to explain the guilty awkwardness that seemed to have taken up residence in his stomach. "You're not well. You need to sleep, and so do I. Full moon in a few days time. Here – I'll put your sweets in the draw so Madame Pomfrey doesn't spot them and confiscate them. Just don't eat them all at once and make yourself sick."

He reached out and pulled open the draw.

"Moony, no!"

Sirius wasn't quite quick enough to stop him and the draw opened. Remus stared into it, wondering why Sirius had tried to stop him. Then his sensitive nose picked up the potent scent of fire whiskey, and he yanked the draw all the way open to reveal half a bottle of Ogden's finest tucked right at the back. He reached out with a shaking hand and picked it up.

"So this is why your stomach hasn't been healing properly," he murmured, knowing his voice was laden with disappointment. He looked up at Sirius who had rolled onto his front and buried his face in his pillow. "Don't you _care _about what you're doing to yourself?"

Sirius mumbled something into his pillow that sounded more like an extended whimper than real speech.

Remus turned the bottle round in his hands, staring down at the label with hatred. "My father used to drink this stuff," he commented, deliberately keeping his voice level. "He would drink and drink until his mind was completely addled. He was always more irrational and violent at those times. I think that even _he_ was shocked at how much he hurt me under the influence of alcohol."

Sirius's hands tightened on his pillow and he turned his head a little so Remus could understand him. When he spoke his voice was rough and broken. "I would never hurt you, Remus."

"You _will_. You _are._ By hurting yourself like this, you hurt me. You don't understand the effect alcohol has on your health and your judgment. Please, Sirius. I don't want you to do something we'll both regret. Please, please, just promise me you won't drink anymore."

"I need it," Sirius whispered. "It's the only way I can bear to sleep. It's the only way I can bear to spend any time in my own company. It takes away the bad things in my head. I can't cope with _thinking _all the time. And remembering."

"Do you think I don't know what it's like?" Remus demanded. "Stopping yourself from thinking about it won't make it go away. You have to _face _your issues, not hide from them. That's why I'm here, and James and Peter. And the Potters. We want to help you work through this, but we can't do it if you insist on destroying yourself."

"For God's sake," Sirius snapped suddenly, his temper flaring. "Stop being so melodramatic! It's just a drink."

"It's _not _just a bloody drink! You don't understand what it _does _to people. I have the scars to prove it!"

"Stop comparing me to your git of a father!"

"Well then stop _acting_ like him!" Remus sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. "Please, love. I beg you – I _beg _you not to do this. Please, please please. For me, if not for yourself. I've never asked you for anything else. Please just do this for me."

"That's low, Remus. Using a pet name to get me to do what you want."

Remus's hands tightened on the bottle and Sirius flopped back against the bed again, all the fight seeming to go out of him. "All right, fine," he said dully. "I won't drink anymore. If it's that important to you, I won't do it."

An odd kind of sobbing laugh bubbled up out of Remus's throat and his whole body sagged in relief. "You promise?"

"Yeah. I promise."

"Where did you get this anyway?" Remus shook the bottle.

"It was in my trunk. I got a house elf to bring it to me."

Remus glared at the bottle, then tucked it into his pocket.

"What are you doing?" Sirius asked.

"Removing temptation."

"Don't you trust me?"

Remus wanted to say '_alcohol makes liars of us all_'. Instead he said, "Of course I do. But why leave it here to torture you?"

Sirius settled back, contented with the reassurance. "I really didn't do it to hurt you, Moony."

"I know, Pads."

"I just wanted to clear my mind. Uncomplicate things a bit."

"I know. It's alright." Remus reached out and tugged down Sirius's pyjama top, then straightened his covers over his body. He brushed Sirius's dark hair away from his face. "Go to sleep."

"You won't leave, will you?" Sirius asked, trying and failing to sound unconcerned about the answer.

"I'll be right here when you wake," Remus assured him. "But I'm going to put the cloak on, okay? I'm not supposed to be here at night." He slung the cloak over his shoulders so he disappeared from sight.

Sirius's hand snuck out from his covers and under the cloak, pulling Remus's from his lap. Remus decided not to comment on quite how tightly Sirius clung to his hand. The gesture had a lot more to do with desperation than romance. He watched as Sirius's eyes fell closed, and after a long while his breathing slowed in sleep.

"It's okay," he whispered very quietly, looking down at their linked hands. His own looked rather disturbing – being the only part of him not covered by the cloak. "I got you. I won't let go. Not ever."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Sirius was released from the hospital wing two weeks later, only a few days before the start of the new term. It had not been an easy time for any of them. Remus's transformation had been particularly violent due to his churning emotions, and as a result, Sirius had not been the only one confined to the hospital wing for those few days.

"You can't believe how amazing it feels to be free at last," Sirius said, as Remus and James helped him through the portrait hole. Weeks of no exercise had left Sirius weak and he was out of breath and shaky by the time they finally made their way to Gryffindor tower, in spite of the fact that the other Marauders had supported him most of the way.

"Believe me, I know everything about the sense of relief you get escaping from the hospital wing," Remus said wryly. He helped Sirius over to the sofa by the fire and eased him down onto it.

"Remind me never to mock you for your shameless pleading to Pomfrey again."

"I'm _never _as shameless as you," Remus said, indignant. "Besides – it's your own fault for getting yourself into a life-threatening situation."

"Me?" Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Like you're one to talk. You're the one who's always knocking on Death's door."

"I never knock on Death's door," Remus told him. "I ring the bell and run. He hates that."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Much as Remus had been looking forward to the arrival of the rest of the school, he had forgotten quite how chaotic it was, and little privacy was available in a tower full of hyperactive, hormonal adolescents. Unfortunately for Sirius, although his appearance had improved drastically over the his time in Madame Pomfrey's care, it was impossible to miss the fact he was weak, sickly and half starved.

Rumours buzzed like mosquitoes in and out of the ears of the Gryffindor students, and from there, spread round the rest of the school. From what Remus had heard, they varied from outrageous (that Sirius had accidentally swallowed the eggs of three Gastrocaline snakes that were currently eating him from the inside out and that he only had two more weeks to live) to disturbingly close to the truth.

The Marauders protected him as best they could, but Remus could see the toll that the situation was taking on him. Sirius slowly began to withdraw from his friends and disappeared on his own for long periods at a time, taking the Marauder's map so they had no way to find him.

Remus felt utterly helpless, and his worry brought Moony black to the surface, and made his own recovery very slow.

One Tuesday night, three weeks into the new school term, Remus was woken to terrified whimpers from Sirius's bed. He was a little surprised that Sirius had forgotten to cast the silencing charm he had been using since his return to the dorm, and he immediately rolled out of bed and padded over to Sirius's. He caught sight of James's ruffled form sitting up sleepily in his own bed.

"It's okay," Remus whispered. "I got it."

James gave a worried nod and lay back again, facing Sirius's closed bed curtains. Remus slipped through the curtains without opening them, and stared down at the other boy. Sirius hadn't returned that night until long after the others had gone to sleep. Remus assumed he had retreated to wherever it was he went when things got too much.

Sirius was still dressed in his school robes, curled into a little ball on top of his covers. An odd, low groan was emanating from deep in this throat, and Remus could see from the light of Sirius's wand that was lying on the cabinet beside his bed, that his friend's face was blanched white and twisted with fear.

"Sirius!" Remus shook Sirius's curled form gently. He only succeeded in making Sirius curl up more tightly. Remus shook a bit more roughly, then jumped when Sirius uncurled as suddenly as spring twanging back into place, and flailed blindly at Remus.

"It's just me, Padfoot!"

One of Sirius's hands managed to snag the front of Remus's pyjamas and dragged him forward to peer dimly at his face. His breath smelled like stale cooking sherry.

"You promised, Sirius," Remus whispered, feeling his stomach twist with betrayal.

"Wha'?" Sirius was obviously struggling to wake up. His voice was slurred with the remnants of sleep and alcohol.

"You _promised_ me you wouldn't drink." Remus angrily tried to untangle Sirius's fingers from the front of his pyjama top.

"MoonyMoonyMoony," Sirius babbled, clinging on tighter. "Don' go! They here. I c'n feel 'em, y'know. Crawling shadow beasties. Don' go my Moony. In m'head. Pleasepleaseplease!"

Remus felt sick with a mixture of pity, love and anger. He stopped trying to prize the fingers free and Sirius clutched him closer. "Nonono…Don' go. Don' go, babe."

As usual, that word proved to be his undoing, and he allowed himself to be pulled into the bed beside Sirius who burrowed into his chest in a way that reminded Remus disturbingly of Hamish. Remus curled around his larger form as best he could and Sirius gave a dog-like snuffle and dropped back into sleep.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus knew that insanity ran rampant in the Black family. He wondered if split personalities were part of the genetic code, or if this brand of mental distortion was individual to Sirius.

As Sirius began regaining weight and the rumours began to dissipate, his good humour seemed to return, along with his inner (or in Sirius's case outer) Marauder. During the day, Sirius could be found practicing Quidditch, or stealing food from the kitchens, or plotting pranks with James who was delighted to have his partner in crime back to normal again. When he decided Remus was working too hard, Sirius would cuddle up and huff down his neck until Remus agreed to an extended snogging session in the dorm or an empty classroom, or to aid the other Maruaders in pulling minor pranks on the rest of the school. To all intents and purposes, Sirius seemed to be back to normal.

At night, however, Remus was woken frequently by the sharp, metallic scent of fear and would slip out of bed to lie next to Sirius who whispered and babbled with sherry-tinted breath about shadow-beasties and the creeping, creeping dark, as he borrowed and wormed his way closer to Remus's warmth before falling into fitful sleep.

Daytime-Sirius was wild, boyish, and overflowing with pranks and mischief and puppy-dog tails – completely free of worries or fears or the shadows of cellar-dark memories.

Night-time-Sirius was dark and hopeless - driven to the point of coppery, fear-filled insanity.


	53. Operation Sexy Sock Puppets

_Breaking with old friends is one of the most painful of the changes_

_in all that piling up of a multitude of small distasteful changes that_

_constitutes growing older._

_(John Dos Passos)**  
**_

**SIRIUS:**

Sirius had never meant to break his promise to Remus. It was something he felt completely helpless against; as if he were sliding down a vertical, slim-coated tunnel. He tried to get a grip - to keep himself from falling, to attempt to claw his way back up into sunlight – but the walls were too slippery and he just kept sliding.

There was a room he had discovered on the seventh floor, opposite a tapestry of someone called Barnabas the Barmy who appeared to be teaching trolls to ballet-dance. He was sure it hadn't been there before, and it wasn't on the Maruader's map. He had found it one evening when he couldn't stand the rowdy, cheerful chatter of the common room anymore and had escaped, searching for somewhere where he could sit and think without being disturbed by his classmates or the shadows.

It was the strangest room he had ever seen, and he wondered whether it only appeared to those who were desperate for some peace, running and afraid of the creeping shadows. It was medium-sized and completely empty of furniture except for four, giant red and gold beanbags which were clustered together in the middle of the room. They made no shadows at all, because the walls and the high ceiling were made of the palest stone Sirius had ever seen, and actually seemed to glow with light. Floating candles – like those in the Great Hall – hovered everywhere. Along every wall, across the ceiling, floating gently through the air in-between. The room was a sanctuary of light that chased away every shadow.

When Sirius lay on the Gryffindor-coloured beanbags, he felt himself relaxing properly for the first time since the summer holidays. He could close his eyes and not be afraid of any dark shadow-demons creeping up on him. Lying there, cushioned by red and gold silk, he felt like a Gryffindor again.

He knew he should tell the others about the room, but some deep, desperate, selfish part of him wanted - _needed_ - somewhere to retreat to. Somewhere without the concerned looks, and careful handling, and pretending that everything was alright again. Somewhere where the other Marauders weren't always there waiting, waiting, waiting for the moment when he would snap.

He couldn't blame them. As soon as he left the room, his irrational fears flooded back full-force, along with the desperate longing for the oblivion of alcohol. He had resisted that longing though – resisted it until one day he became hungry along in his secret room and crept down to the kitchen to get some food off the elves.

It was Dumbledore's fault, Sirius told himself later, as he stumbled back up to the tower long after curfew. It was Dumbledore's fault for having special guests visiting, and ordering a posh dinner that involved cooking sherry. If Sirius hadn't seen the house elves cooking away at the stoves in the kitchen - tipping the sherry into the pan and filling the air with the spicy scent of alcohol – he would never have broken his promise.

And it was the elves' fault as well, because they always gave him whatever he asked for to eat or drink.

But as he sneaked into the dorm and glanced guiltily over to Remus's bed, where the other boy was curled up in in his habitual wolf-like ball by his pillows, only just visible through his half-open curtains, he knew it was his own fault. He had broken his promise and he hated himself for it.

The dreams came as soon as he crawled into bed and closed his eyes. Dreams of vanishing light and black, scuttling shadows with creeping tentacles and fronds of darkness that crept closer and threatened to fill his blood with darkness.

Then Remus was there, murmuring something about broken promises and struggling to get away, but all Sirius could do was clutch him closer because Remus was strong and light and kept away the shadows and Sirius _needed _him. And Remus gave in and crawled in beside Sirius, curling around him and huffing soft reassurances into his ears as Sirius drifted back to sleep.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Just as Sirius knew with absolute certainty at night time, that the shadow-monsters existed and wanted to leach his light from him, in the day time, he was absolutely certain that he was completely insane and paranoid. He knew for a fact that the shadows were just that – shadows. There were an absence of light that had nothing to do with dark magic, or demons.

Every time he thought about his night-time fears, he felt himself squirm inside with acute embarrassment – especially when he was around Remus. Remus saw him at his worst. Remus saw him drunk and whimpering and terrified. Sirius was furious with himself for constantly breaking his promise to the werewolf, and for allowing his fears to overtake him.

Eventually, he came to the conclusion that the person he was at night had nothing to do with who he really was. That scared, half-crazy creature was another being – one who disgusted Sirius and made him angry and ashamed. He refused to discuss shadow-scared-Sirius during the day, or even to acknowledge his existence. Remus had given up on trying to bring up the subject after Sirius disappeared for a whole day the last time he tried.

Unless Sirius was mistaken, Remus seemed to be just as happy to keep his two personas separate. During the day, Remus treated him as he always had – kissing him, berating him, trying to make him do his homework, plotting new pranks, putting on an expression of good-natured suffering when James and Sirius teased him about being a bookworm.

And yet Sirius couldn't help but notice that Remus's smile wasn't quite as wide as it had been, and that he almost never grinned anymore, let alone laughed. His shoulders seemed hunched in a way that they hadn't been since he and Sirius had been together, and although he said nothing, Sirius knew that it was all his own fault, and the guilt gnawed at him like a constant ache in his belly.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It was two weeks into October; early evening, so daytime-Sirius still had the helm. James and Sirius were seated together on the sofa in front of the common room fire, while a furious Lily Evans towered over them.

"You are a couple of irresponsible, arrogant, dull-witted idiots!" she raged, her temper in full flow. "I don't know what you were _thinking! Were_ you even thinking? I have a good mind to report you to _Dumbledore_!" She had been yelling at them in the same vein for the past twenty minutes, and had become so worked up, that she hadn't even noticed that the two boys weren't paying her words the slightest attention anymore.

James was seated beside Sirius, staring up at Lily with an expression of glazed awe on his face as he took in her flushed cheeks, blazing green eyes and temper-ruffled hair. His mouth was half-open and Sirius hoped he wasn't going to start drooling any time soon.

Sirius had tuned out her lecture much in the same way as he tuned out Professor McGonagall's and was currently plotting his escape. He felt his face light up when the portrait opened and he spotted Remus climbing through burdened by an armful of books.

"Moony!" he called, interrupting Lily's tirade with relief. "Come rescue us."

Lily broke off and swung around to face Remus. "You!" she snapped.

Remus looked rather alarmed and took a step back. "Me? What did _I _do?" he cast a suspicious glance at James and Sirius.

"_You _are a prefect! It is your _duty _to do a better job of keeping your thick-headed _friends _under control."

Remus's face took on the hunted look he got every time he was reminded of his perfecting duty after another of James's and Sirius's hair-brained schemes. He had been rather horrified when the badge came with his letter that summer. "I don't control them, Lily. The best I can do is hang on grimly, close my eyes, and go along with the ride."

"Well, you should at least _try!_"

"Why? What have they done this time?" Remus put his books down on the low coffee table in front of the sofa and assumed his best 'Stern Prefect Moony' face. It didn't work on Sirius who just found it hot.

"We didn't do anything wrong, Moony!" James whined. "We were educating the younger years."

"You what?" Remus shot Lily a confused look.

"I _found _them," she said, "giving 'sex education' lessons in one of the empty classrooms to a number of first and second years from all the Houses."

"You _WHAT_?" Remus turned an interesting shade of puce and gaped at James and Sirius.

"We thought it was about time something useful got taught at Hogwarts," Sirius defended himself, giving Remus his best puppy-dog eyes. He wondered if they would get more appealing once he'd properly mastered his animagus form.

"_Sex _education?" Remus squeaked. "What were you _thinking_?"

"It was a really good class," James told him. "We had lesson plans and everything."

"And sock puppets," Sirius put in. "For visual aid. I don't see what's so bad about it."

Lily gave a loud groan and tugged at her hair in frustration. Sirius tried not to notice how James went scarlet in response and shifted in his seat. "It's just so _wrong_, Black," Lily said, scowling at him.

"But _why_?" Sirius asked.

"Well, putting aside the moral implications for a while, there is now a large portion of the first and second year population who have been left with the impression that sex involves humping your best friend's arm while dressed as a sock!"

"We were just doing our bit in the effort to reduce teenage pregnancy."

There was an odd kind of choking, spluttering sound from Remus's direction, and the others turned to look at him in alarm.

"Are you okay, Moony?" Sirius was worried. The werewolf had gone an even more impressive shade of scarlet than James. His hands were in front of his mouth, and he appeared to be choking on his own tongue.

Their concerned expressions seemed to be too much for him, because Remus's self-control seemed to break down completely, and he exploded into a fit of hysterical, boyish giggles that caused his whole body to shake. He leaned against Lily's shoulder for support, and Sirius could just make out the words 'sock' and 'humping'.

Sirius found that he couldn't tear his eyes away. Remus's shoulders shook with laughter, his eyes streamed, and his mouth was half-open, so Sirius could just see a flash of white teeth and pink tongue.

It had been such a long time since Sirius had seen Remus laugh like this that he was completely mesmerised by the sight. It was as though the stress of the past weeks was dissolving into laughter and pouring in streams from Remus's mouth.

"Remus stop it!" Lily ordered. "It's not funny!"

"Yeah, get a grip, mate," James put in. "Otherwise I think Padfoot might jump you right here in the common room."

Remus took a few gulps of air in an effort to calm himself. "Well," he gasped. "He's not dressed as a sock, so I don't reckon I have much to worry about."

"I've got a sock costume upstairs if you want to join me," Sirius said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

There was a gagging sound from the portrait hole and the others turned to look at Peter who had just come from the kitchens judging by his armful of angel-cakes. "I do noteven _want_ to know what circumstances led to Moony finding Sirius-in-a-sock-costume sexually stimulating," he said. "So please don't tell me. Angel-cake anyone?"

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Is she gone?" Sirius hissed to Peter, peering through the thin fabric of the invisibility cloak at his friend. Sirius and James had taken to avoiding Lily in the few days following 'Operation Sexy Sock Puppet', because whenever she spotted one of them, she would launch once more into her irresponsibility lecture. She was trying to persuade them to turn themselves in to Professor McGonagall as it would prove that they 'were sorry and regretted their actions'. Since neither Sirius or James were sorry or regretful, she wasn't having much success. Even James had tired of her constant nagging – and his desire to escape it now outweighed his desire to stare at her.

The two dark-haired Marauders had taken to carrying the invisibility cloak with them whenever they left the safety of their dorm.

It was now Saturday and Sirius and Peter had abandoned James and Remus who were having a heated debate about the intricacies of the transfiguration spell they used to turn Professor Flitwick's shoes into stilts over lunch. They were on their way from the Great Hall to the common room when they spotted Lily in the library corridor.

Sirius immediately ducked back around the corner and tugged the invisibility cloak out from where it had been stored, shrunken, in his pocket.

"She's standing outside the library talking to Snivellus," Peter said, in answer to his question.

"_What?_ Why would she be talking to Snivellus. Is he being mean to her?" Sirius peered over Peter's shoulder. "She's not there."

"They just went into the library. It looked like they were arguing."

Sirius frowned. Much as he disliked Lily's lecturing, he was quite fond of the girl herself. After all – if it hadn't been for her, he would never have admitted his feelings for Remus.

"Let's go and see if she needs rescuing," he said. "Come – get under the cloak with me."

They shuffled awkwardly to the library. Sirius – who was nearing six foot – was too tall, and Peter was too chubby for them to fit as easily together under the cloak as they used to. Sirius had to walk along with his knees bent so their feet didn't show.

They entered the library just in time to catch a glimpse of red hair disappearing behind the bookshelves at the back of the library, and hurried in that direction.

"I'm tired of you always nagging me about it!" Snape was saying as Sirius and Peter approached. "I don't see why I should listen to you when your little Gryffindor friends are just as bad!"

"There's nothing wrong with Rebecca and Alice," Lily replied hotly.

"I wasn't talking about _them_," Snape said, a sneer in his voice. "I was talking about those _boys_. Black and Potter and the two hangers-on."

"I'm _not _friends with Black and Potter!" Sirius and Peter snuck round the bookcase in time to catch her scowl. "But there's nothing wrong with Remus. He's nice."

Snape snorted in disgust.

"Besides," Lily continued, "we weren't talking about them. We were talking about you and how you've taken hanging round with that revolting Rosier and Nott and the rest of them. Everyone knows they're into into the dark arts, you know. And there's rumours going round that they plan to join Voldemort when they get out of school."

Sirius and Peter exchanged confused glances. They couldn't understand why Lily and Snape were having a conversation that sounded as though it was a squabble among friends, rather that a fight between enemies.

"You were the one that told me to try and make friends in my own house," Snape said. "It was your idea to keep the fact we're friends quiet."

"I was trying to make life easier for you, Severus! They would have bullied you if they knew you were friends with a Gryffindor Muggleborn witch. But I wanted you to make _nice_ friends. There are some good people in Slytherin."

"You have no right to tell me who to make friends with," Snape snapped.

Lily sighed, the fight seeming to go out of her. "I'm just worried about you," she said, putting her hand on Snape's bony shoulder. "I don't want you to fall in with the wrong crowd and get in over your head."

Snape glanced down at her hand, then looked away. There was a pained expression on his face, and a faint flush on his prominent cheekbones. Sirius felt like gagging when he realised he had seen a similar expression on James's face when he spoke about Lily. Did the greasy git fancy her, too?

"I know what I'm doing, Lily," he said, and the gentle tone he used didn't really fit with his voice at all. "I'll be careful."

Lily smiled at him. "Make sure that you do. I wouldn't want to lose your friendship after all these years." She grinned suddenly and pulled herself up onto a desk, planting her feet on the chair. "Now, I need your advice on something."

Snape's face took on a slightly wary expression. "I'm not that good at advice. You know that. Can I interest you in a sarcastic comment?"

Lily laughed and Sirius bent over and mimed vomiting, accidentally elbowing Peter's generous stomach in the process.

"It's okay – it's about that potions assignment we have," Lily said. "I was wondering if you could suggest any for me to choose?"

"Let's go," Sirius whispered in Peter's ear, as Snape's face lit up and he launched into a lecture on fifth-year potions. "I might actually puke if I watch any more."

They exited the library in silence, checked the coast was clear, then pulled off the invisibility cloak.

"Well," Peter said nervously as they headed up to the Gryffindor Tower. "That was weird."

"Weird is not the word," Sirius said, anger and disgust churning in his belly at the thought of pretty Lily Evan – _James's _Lily Evans – being friends with _Snivellus _of all people. How _dare _he? How could a greasy git like Snape succeed where a good person like James had failed? "More like 'wrong' or 'disturbing' or 'nauseating'."

"What do you think we should do?" Peter asked, glancing sideways and blinking worriedly at Sirius. "You reckon we should tell Prongs?"

Sirius hesitated. "I don't want to, but I think we should. He'd want to know. We might want to tell him from a distance, though, in case he explodes."

"I thought _you_ were going to explode," Peter said. "And you elbowed me in my podge. I think I've got a bruise."

"Sorry, Wormtail. I was overcome by retches when Snape made a joke."

Peter sniggered. "It _was_ quite funny."

Sirius looked at him. Peter backed away, his hands raised protectively. "Joking! Joking!"

"You're such a wet blanket, Pete."

"Sorry."

"It's okay. You're _our _wet blanket. A Marauderish wet blanket. Probably red with snitches on."

"Er…thanks. I think."

"Anytime." Sirius waved his hand airily and continued to stride down the corridor.

Peter hurried to follow him.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Sirius whispered that night, as he clung to Remus and shook. He hadn't had a chance to go down to the kitchen to drink that evening and his mind worked a million miles and hour forming pictures of the shadow-demons that lurked beyond the safety of his wand-lit bed.

"It's okay. I'm here. It's okay." Remus ran gentle, blunt-nailed fingers through Sirius's damp hair and the warm pressure on his scalp eased Sirius a bit. He dipped his head and pressed it into the hollow of Remus's neck, kissing the warm skin that met his lips and feeling Remus shudder in response. Remus's fingers pulled out of his hair and traced down Sirius's spine as he moved to embrace Sirius more fully.

Sirius could tell Remus was hoping for more, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. His heart was still hammering in fear, and the images were still forming in the back of his mind. "Sorry, sorry," he whispered again, this time apologising for his inaction.

Remus gave a sad little sigh and withdrew a bit. Sirius felt the brief brush of the other boy's arousal against his leg as Remus shifted away, and felt guilty for unintentionally leading him on, even as the small part of him that was not currently fully engaged with his night-time terrors rejoiced in the fact that he had caused that reaction on the normally-reserved boy.

"It's okay," Remus repeated again, his disappointment not showing in his voice. "Just sleep. I'll watch the shadows for you."


	54. Lapdog Lupin

**Disclaimer: you know the drill by now…sadly, the Marauders' magical world belongs to its creator, JK Rowling.**

_Their rage supplies them with weapons._  
_(Virgil)_

**REMUS:**

Remus was almost bowled over the second he climbed through the portrait hole, having spent most of the early afternoon working in the library. Remus blinked up at Frank who had him pinned to the frame of the portrait hole.

"You've _got _to go up there and deal with them," Frank said, his expression urgent. There was an explosion from upstairs that made the windows rattle and dust to shower down from the ceiling. Remus glanced upwards in alarm.

"What on earth was _that_?" he demanded.

"We dunno," Michael said, from where he was standing with a cluster of other Gryffindor students at the foot of the staircase leading to the boys' dorms. "James went up there earlier, and then Sirius and Peter went up a little while ago. That was when all the screaming and explosions started."

Remus groaned. It was the full moon tonight and he was irritable and in pain, and was definitely _not _in the mood to deal with Marauder squabbles. "I'll go on up and see what I can do."

"D'you think you should?" Alice asked. She sidled over to Frank and gripped his hand when another explosion rocked sounded from upstairs. "You might get hurt."

"They wouldn't hurt me," Remus told her confidently. "Don't worry about it."

"You don't look well, mate," Frank said, seeming to notice Remus's drawn face for the first time. "Maybe we should just call McGonagall."

"No don't," Remus said hurriedly. "It's fine. I'll see to it. Don't worry."

Pushing his way through the throng of nosy Gryffindors, he made his way upstairs. He winced when there was another loud bang on the other side of the door, and reached out to open it warily. Thankfully, his heightened senses warned him to duck as half a potions book and a pair of James's underpants flew over his head and hit the wall behind him. He glanced down at the torn book and felt his stomach clench.

"…_Dare he!_" James was shrieking, his voice as high pitched as it had been before it had broken. "_And how could she WANT to be his bloody FRIEND. I HATE him! I HATE him!_"

Remus stared, open-mouthed, at the chaos that was now their dormitory. It looked as though someone had attached a small, but highly explosive device to the base of all four of their trunks then detonated it.

Sirius and Peter were crouching for cover behind Remus's bed, and James was standing in the middle of the room, flinging their belongings around in a fit of fury with the help of his uncontrollable magic.

Remus didn't stop to think. The sight of his neatly ordered trunk that contained practically everything he owned, now overturned and empty, spurred his already-ragged temper into action. He strode into the room, grabbed James by the front of his robes, easily pinning the taller boy to the wall. Remus's arms were stretched above his head so that James's feet dangled off the floor.

James was so shocked he just gaped at Remus, the fury leaving his eyes. There were a series of loud thumps as flying objects fell to the floor around them. Sirius and Peter crept out from behind the bed.

"Moony, mate," Peter said hesitantly. "Let him down. He can't breathe."

Remus ignored him, his stomach still churning with anger. "Those are my _things_!" he spat at James. "They're my _things!_ I don't own much, and I know none of it's very impressive, but now you have _ruined_ everything!" He shook James for effect.

Sirius stepped forward and tried to pry Remus's fingers from James's robes. The bespectacled Marauder could only wheeze ineffectually. "Remus, Remus, let go. You're hurting him!"

"That was my _mother's_ book!" Remus said, his own voice cracking now. "My _mother's _potions book that's now lying in pieces in the corridor! Are you _happy _now? Are you _HAPPY?_"

Warm arms wound round his waist and tugged. Lips pressed to the back of his neck. "Let him go, Moony. You're hurting him. Look, he's turning purple. I'll fix your book. He didn't mean to break it." Sirius pressed another kiss to the skin just below his ear.

Remus looked up at James's face which was, indeed, going purple. In a rush, he suddenly came back to himself, guilt washing over him in a wave. He opened his hands, backing away into Sirius's hold, gasping for breath. "Oh, Merlin! James, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."

James slid to the floor, his chest heaving in breaths of air, his glasses crooked on his nose. Oddly, he looked equally sorry, in spite of the face that Remus had just tried to strangle him with his own robes. "I'm sorry, too, Moony. I didn't mean to break your book. I really didn't. I lost control."

Remus pressed a frustrated palm to his face. "Just…what the hell is going on here?"

"Did you know that Lily Evans – _my _Lily Evans – is friends with bloody _Snivellus_ of all people?"

Remus felt everything click into place and he let out a groan as he pulled out of Sirius's embrace. "How do you know that?"

"Padfoot and Wormtail saw them in the…hang on! How do _you _know that?"

"They sit together in the library quite often," Remus said. "Near the back so most people don't see them." He shot an incredulous glance at Peter and Sirius. "You _told _him?"

Both of them had the grace to look embarrassed, but James looked furious again. "You _knew_? Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you would act like this!" Remus snapped. "I knew you would just make life miserable for everyone. Why should I have told you?"

"Because that's what friends _do_." James stood up and glared down at Remus. "And I had a right to know!"

"A _right_ to know?" Remus laughed, unable to help himself. Moony howled happily in his mind, loving the way his usually-reserved human counterpart was losing control and letting his anger free. "What _right _do you have? Lily doesn't even _like _you, and I can see why if you believe that you have a _right _to choose and control who her friends are!"

"Remus!" Sirius took a step away from him and stared at him in shock.

James was shaking with anger. "Some friend _you _are," he spat, and stormed from the room and down to the common room.

Remus, Sirius and Peter stood in silence for a few long moments, before Remus suddenly remembered his mother's potions book. Running over to the doorway, he knelt down to scooped up the torn pages into his lap. He bent over them and hated himself for the fact he was fighting back tears. The book was broken, and what was worse was that he thought he might just have broken his friendship with the other Marauders as well. James had looked furious, and Sirius and Peter angry and disbelieving as well.

"I told you, you just need to cast _reparo_ on it," Sirius said, his voice frosty as he stood beside Remus. "Here, I'll do it; _rep –_"

"No!" Remus bent forward, covering the half-a-book he had cradled in his lap. "Don't you dare!"

Sirius stared at him, looking nonplussed. "Why?"

"Sh-she wrote in it," Remus explained. "It was her favourite book – really rare. Written in the fifteenth century. She wrote notes in it, and some of the pages are smudged with her potions and her fingerprints. If you cast reparo on it, those might go away."

Sirius's mouth formed a small 'o' of understanding. Neither he nor Peter said anything for a few seconds, then Peter walked over to Sirius's bed and picked up something that was lying on the floor by Sirius's trunk. He brought it over to Remus.

"Here's the rest of it, Moony," he offered, holding out the ragged leather cover that still contained a fair chunk of the pages. It was an awkward attempt at apology, but Remus was so glad to hear it. It was his worst fear in the world that he would lose his friends.

The moment didn't last very long, because there was an infuriated girlish shriek from downstairs followed by the crash of something delicate being thrown against a stone wall. "_How DARE you, Potter! How DARE you lecture me on HOUSE LOYALTY!_" It didn't take long for them to recognise the rage-filled tones of Lily Evans. "_HOUSE LOYALTY! You damn HYPOCRITE! The amount of points you and your bunch of MISCREANTS lose shows more loyalty to SLYTHERIN than Gryffindor!_"

There was another crash as Lily threw something. Presumably at James. Remus, Sirius and Peter shared a horrified glance, before sprinting downstairs to try and avert disaster. They arrived in the common room just in time to see James duck the ornamental bellows from the fireplace that Lily had flung at his head. Lily spun on her heel and stormed out of the common room, slamming the portrait behind her, apparently oblivious to the Fat Lady's muffled yells of protest.

Remus took one quick glance around the room of gob-smacked Gryffindors, then hurried over to the portrait hole to follow Lily.

"Where are you going, _traitor_?" James yelled after him.

Remus swung round to scowl at him. James's black hair was even wilder than usual, and his glasses were hanging crookedly off the end of his nose. "I'm going after her to try and fix this before you ruin _any _chance of _ever _getting some kind of date with the girl." Remus slammed the portrait behind him.

Lily had disappeared from sight, but this close to the full moon, his senses were even more heightened than normal, and he could easily follow her scent as it trailed away from the common room and in the direction of the library. He set off at a trot and it didn't take him long to reach the library.

It was late afternoon, and the desks were filled mainly with Ravenclaws; a few Hufflepuffs dotted in-between. Remus hurried right to the back by the potions text books, where he knew Lily and Snape often studied together.

Why the _hell _had Sirius and Peter told James? It hadn't ever even occurred to Remus to do something so stupid. Didn't they _know _how he would react?

"…And then he just –" Lily broke off from her teary explanation to a worried-looking Snape when Remus rounded the corner.

"What the hell do you want, Lupin?" Snape demanded, standing up from the table he was seated at and moving in front of Lily protectively. Lily gave a little sob and wrung her hands.

Remus hesitated, oddly touched by the protective gesture from the Slytherin. "I just came to apologise."

"_Apologise?_" Snape repeated incredulously.

"You didn't do anything, Remus," Lily said, peering over Snape's shoulder and sniffing wetly.

Remus gathered his Gryffindor courage. He had to make it up to James. He couldn't live with himself if his friend hated him forever. "James didn't mean t-to be c-cruel," he said, hating the childish stutter that plagued him when he was nervous. "He just r-really likes you, Lily."

"W-w-well, y-y-you c-c-can j-j-just tell him t-t-to make his _own _damned apologies and not send his silly little s-s-s-stuttering _lackeys _to do it," Snape said, his voice deliberately mocking and cruel.

Remus ducked his head, a humiliated blush spreading across his face.

"Oh, don't, Severus," Lily protested. "Why are you always so mean? Remus didn't do anything!" She stepped around the Slytherin and put a hand on Remus's arm.

"He didn't s-send me," Remus said. "I came on my own."

Snape snorted and crossed his arms. "You're such a lapdog, Lupin. It's nauseating."

"Don't you _dare_ call him that, you bastard!"

Remus jumped and swung round to see Sirius emerging from behind the bookshelves. He had been concentrating so hard on Lily and Snape he hadn't even smelled the other boy approaching.

"Sirius, _don't,_" he started, but was cut off when Sirius sent a hex flying at Snape, causing the Slytherin to stagger back, clutching his face with a mewl of pain. When he pulled his hands away, Remus saw his large, hooked nose was covered with expanding boils. He only had time to register this much before Snape sent two spells in quick succession in Sirius's direction. Two deep cuts opened over Sirius's eyebrows before he had a change to react, then he was hoisted up into the air by his left ankle and dangled there for a few seconds before Snape waved his wand again and dropped him with a crack on his head.

"Severus, STOP!" Lily begged, clutching his arm.

Snape spared her a glance, hesitated, then stalked over to Sirius who was stirring sluggishly on the floor. He aimed a kick at Sirius's side. "This isn't over, _Black_." He stalked out of sight, muttering the counter-charm on his nose.

Remus fell to his knees beside Sirius, who was struggling to sit up, blinking blood from his eyes.

"Do you need help?" Lily asked, her voice rather cold.

Remus glanced up and shook his head. Her expression softened a bit, but she said nothing as she, too, left the scene, picking up the book that Snape had left on the table as she went.

"James is right, you are a traitor," Sirius mumbled, his voice muffled by his hands that were trying to staunch the flow of blood. He was swaying slightly and Remus guessed it had something to do with the blow to his head.

"You cast the first hex," Remus said, lifting his wand to heal the cuts over Sirius's eyebrows. "It was your own duel."

"You just stood by and watched him hurt me!"

Remus cast a short spell that siphoned off the blood dripping from Sirius's face and hands. "I was trying to make amends for James," he said, trying to keep the tremble from his voice. "You came in and ruined it."

"I was standing up for you. Snape was bullying you."

"He said nothing that wasn't true," Remus said bitterly. He moved his hands into Sirius's hair and felt for the bump, wondering if he had concussion. "I am a lapdog. You know perfectly well that you and James and Pete can make me do whatever you want. Look at me now. I'm bloody furious with you, and I'm still sitting here helping you."

"I'm sorry, Moony. I'm sorry." Sirius tried to catch his hands, and dipped his head to kiss Remus's unresponsive lips. "I really am. You know I didn't mean it. I'm sorry I called you a traitor."

Remus closed his eyes, telling himself sternly not to give in. He had to stand up for himself sometimes. Snape was right. He _was _a lapdog. He couldn't let the others have this kind of control over him.

He turned his head away, breaking the kiss. "I'm not in the mood right now, Sirius. I'm not feeling well. I'm going to the hospital wing. Don't even _think _about following me." He stood up and moved to walk away.

"Remus, don't you love me?" Sirius called after him, his voice cracking. Remus glanced back and Sirius looked so pitiful and heartbroken sitting there on the floor with his hair ruffled and his clothes crumpled, that his meagre attempt at righteous anger shrivelled in his chest.

"You know I do, Padfoot. I'm just a bit upset at the moment. I want some time to myself."

Sirius nodded, watching as Remus turned and walked away.

Neither of them noticed the wide, black eyes that stared at them with shock through a gap in the one of the bookshelves.


	55. The Price of Alcohol and Forgiveness

**Disclaimer: The world of the Marauders is not mine, but JK Rowling's. **

**A/N: A lot of people have been asking me how far this story will be going time-wise. Just to tell you, it will end as the Marauders finish their seventh year. **

**Moonsign x**

_I look inside myself and see my heart is black  
I see my red door and it has been painted black  
Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts  
It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black_

_(Paint It Black - Rolling Stones)_

**SIRIUS:**

Sirius felt awful. He felt like all he had been doing since the others rescued him from the cellar was betraying or hurting Remus. It happened over and over again and he couldn't seem to stop it. First it was his promise not to drink. Then it was his inability to pay attention to Remus's need for physical affection when Sirius _knew _the werewolf so rarely asked for them, yet so desperately needed them. He knew that Remus was tearing himself up inside (and over the full moon on the outside) in his worry over Sirius's condition. And now he had hurt Remus again. Even going to far as to call him a traitor.

Sirius took another gulp from the bottle of cooking sherry he held in his hand. The irony of the fact he was sitting in a room he had selfishly kept secret from Remus, doing the very thing he had promised he wouldn't, wasn't lost on him.

Sirius pressed his face into the red and gold brocaded fabric covering the beanbag he was lying on and gave a miserable hiccough. Red and gold. Gryffindor colours. He didn't feel very brave right now.

Remus was alone in the hospital wing, shivering and spasming as his muscles and tendons stretched and prepared for his transformation which was only a short time away. Sirius knew that if he ran now, he could see him before he left for the Whomping Willow, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't decide whether it would make things better – he could apologise and show Remus how sorry he was – or whether it would make things worse – he was drunk, after all, and Remus had ordered Sirius not to follow him.

Why had he started drinking tonight, anyway? He vaguely remembered running from the library, guilt crouching malevolently in his stomach and tugging on every one of his internal organs. He remembered his own thoughts spitting bitter truths at him over and over again about how he didn't deserve Remus, and how Remus shouldn't be forced into the position of having to forgive him yet again.

He had found himself in the kitchen without even realising it, and the house-elves – always desperate to please – pressed a bottle of sherry into his hands without him having to ask. He hadn't been able to resist the lure of the blissful thoughtlessness that came from being incredibly drunk.

He looked down at the bottle in his hand and suddenly felt nauseous. It was the alcohol's fault, he realised. Everything had started with alcohol. It had started when he ordered the house elf to bring him his father's finest fire whiskey to his bedroom. From there is had been the posters on the wall that he had never had any intention of really sticking up. Then it had been the cellar and the barrels of wine and the shadows-demons that grew and mutated at the edge of every darkened space.

And of course, the promise to Remus. The broken promise.

It was all alcohol's fault.

He stared down at the bottle in his hand and leaned over the edge of the beanbag to vomit violently onto the floor. Sitting up again, he flung the bottle against the wall with his archetypal Sirius Black flair for the dramatics. It hit the wall with a satisfying crash, and glass shards were flung in every direction, glittering in the iridescent light of a hundred floating candles.

He needed to see Madame Pomfrey, he realised. She would be able to help him, and he knew she would be discrete. He could probably even persuade her not to mention this to Dumbledore or McGonagall. Or even worse, to the Potters or the Anders.

He sat for a few moments, watching the glittering amber river of sherry flow slowly away from the wall and along the cracks of the white-stone floor. The colour reminded him of Remus's eyes – a sappy thought that he would never have had if he hadn't been this drunk, he assured himself.

Then he pushed himself roughly to his feet, pulling his wand from his pocket and casting a quick tempus charm. It was a lot later than he had realised. The moon had already risen and Remus would be safely ensconced in the Shrieking Shack. He needed to go see Madame Pomfrey now, before he lost his nerve.

He couldn't wait to tell Remus.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It wasn't until he was actually walking down the corridor and the movement of his limbs caused the alcohol to rush through his veins that he realised quite how drunk he was. He couldn't seem to walk in a straight line, and he kept having to resist the urge to giggle at the thought of Remus's delighted face when he told him about his plan to get himself cured.

His thoughts were getting fuzzier and he took a wrong turn on the way to the hospital wing and found himself in the main corridor, just outside the Great Hall and the main doors. Damn! _Concentrate, Sirius!_

He frowned, forcing his brain to remember the quickest route to the hospital wing. Yes, to the left, then through the tapestry. He turned – only to come face to nose with _Snape _of all people.

The nose wrinkled in disgust. It was such a prominent nose that the disgust literally radiated from it. Sirius repressed another urge to giggle.

"Good God, Black!" Snape snapped. "What the _hell _have you been drinking? You smell like an old pub carpet." In spite of his brave words, Sirius was sure he'd seen an odd flash of fear in Snape's eyes when he breathed in the distinctive fumes of second-hand alcohol. It reminded Sirius disturbingly of the look in Remus's eyes when he discovered the fire whiskey in the draw of the hospital wing cabinet.

"_My father used to drink this stuff…"_

"Oh, bugger off, Snivellus." Sirius snapped. He wasn't in the mood for a fight with the Slytherin. Besides, he had felt a nauseating stab of pity when he saw that flash of fear. Unfortunately, he was more than a little drunk, and what actually came out sounded more like, "B'groff, Sniv'lis."

Snape looked maliciously delighted. "Ooh, you're properly smashed, aren't you, Black? Tell me, what would you do if McGonagall found out? Or your precious Professor Dumbledore? He thinks the sun shines out your arse, doesn't he? The Slytherin turned Gryffindor. The one who had the strength to resist the _snakes'_ House."

Sirius struggled to focus his mind. He silently cursed himself for being drunk. Had he been sober, he would have hexed Snape and left him to rot in a puddle of his own grease. But if he hadn't been drinking, he wouldn't be in this position at all, would he?

"Don'you _dare _tell'em," he snapped at Snape, when he finally made sense of the Slytherin's words. The threatening tone was ruined by his slurring.

"Or what?" Snape laughed. "You'll puke on me?" He leant his bony frame against the wall. Sirius guessed he was aiming for a nonchalant lounge, but what he really achieved was the distinct impression of a vulture hanging on a coat hook by the scruff of its neck.

Sirius opened his mouth, trying to think of a smart reply.

"Is this a secret of yours, Black?" Snape asked cruelly. "You're a closet alcoholic? I'll bet you have a lot of secrets, don't you?"

Sirius stared at him blankly.

"I know all about secrets, you know," Snape continued. "And I know just how damaging they can be." His lips stretched into an expression that might be taken for a smile – if one was short sighted, confunded and mildly drunk on firewhiskey. "For instance, I know all about Lupin."

That short sentence hit Sirius like a bucket of cold water. Bloody Snivellus knew about Remus's lyncanthropy! _OhGODohGODohGOD! Merlin help me! What on earth will happen to Remus if he tells? Oh GOD – the ministry…the werewolf reservations…silver whips …_

And then it finally dawned on his shocked, alcohol-ridden mind. _He's going to blackmail me. And there's nothing I can do. I have to do whatever he says. For Moony. _

"Wha'do you want?" Sirius whispered weakly. "In exchange f'not telling?" Merlin, he wished he was sober. He needed to _think._

Snape smirked. "I'm impressed, Black. Even when you're drunk as a skunk you've managed to catch on pretty quickly."

Sirius swayed and put out a hand to catch himself against the wall. Snape chuckled.

"I'm meeting someone in Hogsmeade tonight. Some of my friends are introducing me to him. It's a Slytherin thing, you understand." He sneered as his eyes passed mockingly over Sirius. "Or not, in your case. I doubt you're able to understand anything much right now, beyond the fact I'm blackmailing you from here to Timbuktu. I was going to try sneak out the main entrance." He nodded to the giant, locked, double doors. "But, I know you and your little friends know secret passages to everywhere. Tell me a way to sneak out to Hogsmeade, or I'll tell the whole school."

Sirius's breath hitched. It wasn't a _terrible_ thing Snape was asking him to do. Sneak out to Hogsmeade. Of course this wouldn't be it. Snape now had Moony's secret in his grasp. He could force Sirius or any of the other Marauders to do anything, anytime, from now until they graduated, and even after. Remus's life could be ruined forever by this.

_There's nothing I can do,_ he realised. _I have to tell him. _

Well, there were three passages to Hogsmeade from here. The one behind the mirror. The one behind the hump-backed witch, and of course, the one to the Shrieking Shack. He couldn't tell Snape _that _one. Especially not tonight. It was full moon and Remus was…

_Oh Merlin. _

It was brilliant. A way out of this whole predicament. God, he was a genius, even when he was drunk. It would be the ultimate Marauder revenge. A Prank to top all other pranks. A way to prove that no one messes with the Marauders, and especially his Moony. They could get rid of Snape and his blackmail forever.

Oh the genius of it!

"Fine, _Sniv'lis_," he spat, trying to sound reluctant instead of victorious. "I'll _tell _y'where a bloody passage is. It's unner th'roots of the Whomping Willow. There's a door leading ou'side from th'corridor of the Hospital Wing. Y'need t'get a long stick and poke the knot in th'trunk by th'entrance. It'll stop th'branches. The passage leads to Hogsmeade."

Snape grinned triumphantly, and turned to stalk down the corridor. "You'd better be telling the truth, Black." He called over his shoulder. "If you're not I'll tell the whole school about you and Lupin and your peverted relationship!"

Sirius froze. _WHAT?_

And suddenly there was a second cold-bucket-of-water feeling. This one made him feel almost sober. He had the wrong secret. Snape knew about their relationship, not about Remus being a werewolf.

And then something else hit him. _Oh God – I'm about to murder Snape. No, _Moony_ is about to murder Snape. I'm turning my Remus into a killer. Oh God, there's no way that could ever be hidden from the Ministry_…

"What the _hell _have I done?"

He had to stop Snape. He took off down the corridor at a run, stumbling against walls as his woozy body tried to keep up. _gottafindSnapegottaSTOPSnape ._

There! A dark figure up ahead, hurrying through the shadowy corridor. "_Snape!_ Stop!"

"Sirius?"

Sirius skidded to a halt. "James?"

"I've been looking _everywhere_ for you! Do you know what time it is? I thought you might have done something stupid."

"Oh God, James, I _have_! I've done something terrible! You have to help me!" Sirius grabbed James's shoulders and shook him.

"What? What've you done?"

"I told Snape how to get through the Whomping Willow. He's going there now."

Even in the dim light, Sirius saw James's face drain of all colour. "Please tell me you're joking." Sirius gave a hiccoughing shake of his head. "And you're bloody _drunk _again. Oh hell, we have to stop him." Sirius nodded again, preparing to run. "No! You just…dammit! You just go tell Dumbledore. You're in no state to rescue Snape."

"But – "

"Just _do as I damn well say!_"

Sirius staggered backwards and nodded weakly. James turned and hurtled down the corridor after Snape.

_What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?_

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Sirius was numb. There were no thoughts in his head, no emotions. His whole mind was just a gaping hollow of numb shock. It turned out that the quickest way to an oblivious, thoughtless state was not alcohol, but the irreparable betrayal of the person you loved most in the world.

He couldn't even remember how Dumbledore had reacted. He had vague, second-hand memories of stumbling up the stairs to Dumbledore's office and hammering on the door that led to his private chambers. He supposed he must have blurted out the whole story, because the next thing he knew he was being pressed roughly into a chair in the office, and Dumbledore was gone, still only dressed in his orange-and-purple striped pyjamas. Sirius wasn't positive, but he was sure that Dumbledore hadn't even been wearing shoes.

The only sound in the office was the soft whir and click of the various odd-looking instruments that littered every surface of the room and the soft pop of the dying fire in the massive fireplace along the far wall.

Sirius had lost any sense of time. He could have been here minutes, hours, days…he had no idea. Was Snape dead?

His mind remained blank as his stomach rolled and pitched sending burning acid up his gullet to scald his throat.

And Moony? Had he ripped the Slytherin to shreds?

His stomach rolled again, and he leaned over the arm of his chair and retched. He didn't have anything except the last remnants of sherry in his stomach and after a few long minutes of violent retching, he only managed to bring up stomach acid and black bile. Every muscle in his abdomen ached and spasmed.

He ended up sprawled weakly over the arm of the chair, staring down at the meagre puddle of vomit below him, unable to move as he huffed and wheezed for breath.

Sirius didn't know how long he remained in that position. He wasn't aware of the moon setting, and only realised it was dawn when the first morning rays of sunlight hit his cheek. He retched again.

Where was Dumbledore? He must have been waiting here for hours.

As if in answer, there was the loud grinding sound of the gargoyles shifting and the moving staircase. The door opened a few seconds later and Sirius tried to raise his head. It felt as though it had been filled with concrete and he only managed to catch a glimpse of Dumbledore's ludicrously coloured pyjamas and the two hunched figures following him, before his head dropped back onto the wooden arm of his chair with a crack.

"Take a seat Mr. Potter, Mr. Snape."

Sirius watched numbly, blearily, as James and Snape moved to obey, shooting glances in his direction, their eyes flicking to the puddle on the floor and Sirius's blank-eyed, vomit-smeared face. Some very, very distant part of Sirius was on fire with relief at the sight of the Slytherin's hook-nosed, largely-undamaged face. Snape was cradling his right arm with a wince of pain, and James had a healing gash across one cheek and a bulky appearance to his shoulder that spoke of bandages beneath.

"We have a serious situation on our hands, gentlemen," Dumbledore said. His voice betrayed no emotion, and his blue eyes twinkled, but Sirius got no impression of warmth from the expression. They twinkled in the same way a diamond did – cold, ancient and impersonal.

"Black should be _expelled_," Snape burst out. "He tried to _kill _me!"

"I assure you, Mr. Snape," Dumbledore said firmly, "Mr. Black will be dealt with very severely. However, as I am sure you were perfectly aware of at the time, Mr. Black was not, and is still not, in the correct state of mind to have logically considered all the repercussions of his actions."

"I don't _believe _this!" Snape looked livid and helpless. "You're _still _sticking up for him? Just because he's one of your Gryffindor golden boys?" He spat the last three words as though they were a vile taste in his mouth.

Sirius knew he would normally react, probably angrily, but he still felt distant from his body and didn't even twitch as he watched Snape with blank eyes. He caught James's half-furious, half-worried gaze flickering in his direction and couldn't even conjure up a reassuring look.

"His House had nothing to do with – "

"Oh sure it doesn't!" Snape actually looked tearful. "Because if I had been the one to send Potter or Black to face certain death at the hands of a vicious werewolf, you would be letting me off too."

The shock of hearing Snape utter the word 'werewolf' was so strong that this time Sirius did move. His muscles gave an involuntary spasm and his breath hitched in his throat. Snape may not have known before what Remus was, but there was no mistaking his knowledge now. The last remnant of that hope shrivelled and died in Sirius's chest.

"I believe the actions of Mr. Potter can be considered enough of a reason to leave him out of your accusations," Dumbledore said rather sharply. "He saved your life, Mr. Snape."

"After his best friend tried to take it in the first place!" Snape shot back, sending a hate-filled glare at James who sat beside him. "He was probably in on the whole plan to begin with and got cold feet at the last minute!"

_That _accusation jolted through Sirius even more strongly. He, himself, may have been a traitorous, stupid, dark-blooded sod, but to accuse James – who risked his life to save Snape's – of being part of it was just wrong. James was the only reason Remus wasn't being shipped to the ministry right now as a murderer through no fault of his own.

Sirius lifted his concrete-filled head again and tried to glower at Snape. "No," he croaked, his throat rough and burned from a night of puking up stomach acid. "He wasn't – he didn't have anything to do with it. You know that, S-S-Sn…" He could not bring himself to give Snape the respect of using his real name, but his guilt wouldn't allow him to call the boy 'Snivellus'.

"Oh, shut up, you dirty, werewolf-loving pervert!" Snape answered, sneering at Sirius. "I know exactly what you are!"

"_Enough!_"

All three boys jumped. None of them had ever actually heard Dumbledore angry before. His silver-grey eyebrows were drawn together in a scowl that didn't look out of place on his face. Sirius suddenly remembered that Dumbledore had defeated the darkest wizard in three centuries single-handedly. He was the most powerful person in the wizarding world right now, and Sirius's future lay in his long-fingered hands.

"Mr. Snape," Dumbledore continued, his eyes moving from one face to another. "From what I've gathered, you were by no means innocent in this whole saga. You were using knowledge of a very personal secret to blackmail Mr. Black. Although, of course, this does not condone his actions, his actions also do not condone yours. You will be serving detention for a month, and you will be making me a promise not to breathe a word of Mr. Lupin's condition or his relationship to Mr. Black to anyone, or I will be informing certain authorities of exactly _who _you were planning on meeting in Hogsmeade last night, and why."

Snape went deathly pale, and Sirius felt a thread of interest try to break through his woolly shields of shock. James's head also jerked curiously in the Slytherin's direction.

"Mr. Black," Dumbledore said, turning to him now. "You will be serving detention with your Head of House from now until Christmas. You will also be attending regular sessions with Madame Pomfrey to address the issue of your drinking which – from what Mr Potter tells us – is a problem that has been going on for a while."

That _did _break through his shields. The irony of it all. The fact that he had been on his way to Madame Pomfrey when this whole mess started. He remembered how determined he had felt – how brave. He remembered thinking about how proud Remus would be of him for facing his problem.

Now that was gone. Remus would never forgive him. James and Peter would never forgive him. Bellatrix was right – you can never escape the blood that runs in your very veins. The shadows; those wicked shadow-demons that crawled at the edges of his mind – they didn't come from the innocent darkness beneath a bed or behind a cupboard. He had every right to be afraid of them because they came from his family. From his blood. From himself. They weren't trying to get him. They _were _him. They made him evil and cruel. They made him a traitor and an enemy. He had argued his way out of Slytherin at the beginning of first year, but he could not argue the way out of his own blood. His own dirty blood.

He distantly realised he was laughing. Half-laughing, half-sobbing. It was as if the situation was so utterly ironic it was almost funny. The way he had been kidding himself all these years. Believing he was a bloody Gryffindor and worthy of James and Remus and Peter. Oh God, it really was just too funny.

Someone was shaking him, someone slapped his face. Someone yelled at him – something about him having no right to go crazy – not now, not after this. Then there was a potion vial at his lips and Sirius hoped it was poison of some kind. Something that would let him escape from this – his life, his blood. He drank eagerly and the world went black.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Sirius woke to the sound of pitiful, childlike wails. They were muffled through a wall of stone, but were still piercing and familiar enough to drag Sirius roughly from his potion-induced sleep by his heartstrings.

"Pad'foo!_ Pad'foo! Moony sorry, Moony sorry!_"

In spite of being drugged and half-asleep, Sirius didn't need to ask what was going on. The events of the night before rushed back into his head like a bitter wave of stomach-acid and he felt himself curl up as it washed over him.

"_Please! Please! Moony sorry…sorrysorrysorry._"

Sirius's eyes cracked open and he found himself in the main ward of the hospital wing. Remus's cries, of course, came from his own private little room at the far end. Sirius couldn't prevent a deep moan of vicious emotion escaping from his throat as he pictured post-moon Remus sitting up in his bed, begging for him, believing he had done something to make Sirius angry enough not to come.

The voices of Madame Pomfrey and the other Marauders were low and muffled, struggling to calm and reassure the distressed werewolf.

Sirius longed to have the numbness back, but it seemed to have dissolved in his sleep, and the cement that had filled his head and made it empty and heavy had slipped down and now lay solidly on his heart. Everything about him ached.

He wished he could get out of bed and open that door. He wished he could watch Remus's amber eyes light up with relieved joy and feel him crawl inevitably into his lap, the slim fingers twisting themselves into his clothing and that now oddly manlike-but-innocent voice murmuring, "PadsPadsPadfoot".

He knew he had no right to wish such things. He had given up that privilege now, but he couldn't help every part of him aching for it.

Sirius didn't make a sound. He didn't move, but he felt hot tears beginning to pour from his eyes as Remus's pleading continued. His throat clogged up and his nose streamed but he didn't move to dam the flow. He only lay there feeling heavy and ugly and useless as the wails turned to whimpers, which eventually began to disappear as well. Sirius guessed Remus had cried himself to sleep.

After a long silence from the other room, the door clicked open and a familiar figure moved out. Sirius's eyes were itchy and blurred with tears, but James's hair was impossible not to recognise even through those barriers.

He hesitated in the doorway, the white blur of his face turning in Sirius's direction and obviously seeing that his eyes were open. There was a long pause and then he moved up to the edge of Sirius's bed. Sirius stiffened, but otherwise didn't move. He was curled up on his side and couldn't bring himself to look up at his best friend's – or now ex-best friend's – face. He didn't have enough emotion left to feel embarrassment about the fact the tears and snot were still running down his face and soaking into his hair and pillow.

"I made a promise to you last year," James said, the tone of his voice unreadable. "Do you remember?"

Sirius stared at the front of James's robes. They were dark blue and the patch that was level with Sirius's eyes had a smeared, chocolaty handprint on it, as if it had been grasped by frantic fingers.

"You made me promise," James said, as though trying to reassure himself. "You can't break promises, Sirius."

Sirius wondered if Remus had actually eaten the chocolate, or if one of the others had unwrapped it and given it to him in an attempt to calm him, and it had just melted in his hand.

"It was that day by the willow – not the Whomping one; the other one, by the lake. I told you to dump Remus because I didn't want you to hurt him or get hurt yourself. And you said you would never hurt him, and I said that sometimes you say stupid things without thinking and you don't mean them, but you might hurt him. Do you remember?"

Who had cleaned Remus up after he had gone to sleep? Sirius wondered. Who had done his job – carefully wiped each of his fingers as they curled up in sleep, cleaned around his half-open mouth that huffed chocolate-scented breath.

"You _made _me promise." James sounded agitated. "You made me promise that if you ever hurt him, no matter if you meant it or not, no matter what the circumstances, I had to choose him over you. Do you remember? You said it, Sirius. Him over you, every time."

How much would Remus remember of the night? Would he wake up thinking everything was fine. Would someone have to break it to him all over again? How would he react? Would he cry? Or worse, would he get that old, resigned look on his face that said 'of course. Of course Sirius betrayed me. I am a dark creature and a werewolf. I deserved it. It's not Sirius's fault'.

It would be terrible to be forgiven under those conditions. Sirius could never accept forgiveness that sprouted from Remus's own self-loathing, no matter how much he ached for it.

"So I can't be your friend," James said, and his voice, for the first time that Sirius could ever remember, sounded _old_. He sounded mature and tired and world-weary. "I can't be your friend until Remus forgives you."

The door to Remus's room opened and Peter moved up silently behind James.

"If he forgives you," James said, and instead of cruel, his voice was heavy with pity.

He and Peter turned and walked out of the hospital wing.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

No one informed Sirius of who, exactly, told Remus what had happened. It definitely wasn't him. He barely saw anything of the Marauders or any of his classmates over the next few days except in lessons.

He sat alone in these lessons, as far away from the others as he could get. He felt speculative eyes on him, and knew that everyone was wondering what he could have done that was terrible enough to tear apart the most infamously loyal gang of Marauders. Murder, he heard, among the many rumours – which wasn't actually that far from the truth. Deciding to choose his family over his House, was another. Having sex with Lily Evans on James's bed. Transfiguring all Remus's homework into nifflers to let loose in Dumbledore's office.

No one actually dared to ask one of the Marauders for the truth. Especially after James – _JAMES POTTER – _had hexed _LILY EVANS'S _robes lime green and two sizes smaller after she pestered him one too many times. If Lily Evans could not draw the truth from the Marauders, no one would.

Straight after lessons ended, he would slip to the kitchens to eat dinner. The first time he had done that, the elves presented him with a bottle of sherry and he had taken it and flung it against the wall before stalking out again. Seeing as he now regularly missed both breakfasts and lunches in the Great Hall, he was very hungry by the time he got to bed that night.

After dinner, he went to Professor McGonagall's office for detention. Sometimes it was lines, sometimes cleaning or polishing, sometimes sorting potions ingredients for Slughorn. Once it was filing the massive box of detention slips dating back almost ten years into chronological order. It was more of a torture than she had ever anticipated seeing his own name alongside James's and Remus's and Peter's, as though it belonged there.

Four-and-a-quarter years worth of detentions; the four of them making up roughly two-thirds of the detentions served by Gryffindor house in the last five years on their own.

When McGonagall came back to check on him after two hours and found him a quarter of the way into his third year, clutching a detention slip tightly in his right hand, his eyes blank and glazed, she prized it from him with surprisingly gentle fingers and sent him to the hospital wing.

Because that was where he spent nights now – in the hospital wing with the shadows now living inside him so that no amount of external lighting could chase them away. He lay wide-eyed and unmoving on his bed as the shadow-demons coiled and shifted in his stomach and chest cavity and worked their way into his brain where they replayed his stupid, wicked actions over and over again, chuckling gleefully all the while.

Sometimes Madame Pomfrey gave him dreamless sleep potion which made him wake up with cramps in his stomach and aches in his head as his battered body protested to the strength of the ingredients.

Night after night, day after day. Lessons, kitchens, detention, hospital wing, night terrors…over and over and over again.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_**Name (s)**__: James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew_

_**House: **__Gryffindor_

_**Class: **__Third year, Herbology_

_**Professor**__: Ponoma Sprout_

_**Misdemeanour**__: Enchanting Professor Sprout's pink, fluffy earmuffs to stick to her head and repeatedly play 'I'm Too Sexy For My Earmuffs, Too Sexy For My Earmuffs, So Sexy It Hurts' over and over again until Professor Flitwick managed to remove charm. Then tried to escape punishment by saying, "You DID look very sexy and old Sluggy couldn't keep his eyes off you". _

_**Detention**__: Re-potting all the mandrakes in Greenhouse 3 at lunch in full view of all students who care to watch while wearing pink fluffy earmuffs _

_**Notes to Head of House: **__Minerva, please find out where the boys found that charm and confiscate the book. They're too clever by half, and allowing them access to such advanced spells is a recipe for disaster. I've never encountered such a close-knit group of troublemakers in all my time at Hogwarts - student and teacher. Many thanks, Ponoma. _

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It was long past curfew and there was no one in the common room as Sirius crept through it dressed in his hospital-issue pyjamas. He was so thin by now that when he caught sight of his refection in the dark widow as he passed, he noticed that he strongly resembled a closed umbrella in the way that the over-sized shirt hung off his gaunt shoulders.

He crept up the stairs to the Marauders' dorm and gently, gently pushed the door open. Staying on tiptoe, he quietly snuck over to Remus's bed.

He just had to look at him. He wouldn't wake him up. He just wanted to see the familiar way Remus curled up wolf-like right at the head of his bed by his pillow, making little canine snuffling snores as he slept. The way his tawny hair got all static and wispy and his fists flexed and clenched into his pillow with deceptive strength.

He peered through Remus's curtains and felt his heart stop. Remus wasn't there. Oh God! Had Snape told? Was Remus expelled without anyone telling him?

_No, I saw him in class today, _Sirius thought. _He wouldn't look at me, but he was there. _So where was he?

He glanced around the room and his eyes landed on his own bed. The curtains were drawn almost fully closed. He hesitated for a long moment. _Surely he wouldn't ..._

He went over quietly and slipped through the small gap in the curtains. And there he was – just as Sirius had pictured him. Except he was curled around Sirius's pillow, not his own. And his slim body made a crescent-moon shape under Sirius's red-and-gold covers, not those of his own bed.

Sirius was frozen with a mixture of shock, hope and sadness. He had no idea how long he just stood there staring before the silence was suddenly broken.

"I know you're there, you stupid sod." Remus's voice was sleepy, but cold. "I'm a bloody werewolf. I know you're perfectly aware of that fact seeing as you used me as your murder weapon the other day, but perhaps my heightened senses have slipped your memory."

Sirius flinched and took a step back.

"Sirius?" It was James's voice, sounding even thicker with sleep than Remus's. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Sirius took another step back, his heart hammering. He had not been prepared for this. He didn't want a confrontation. "I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered. "I'll just go." He turned towards the door.

"Wait. _Lumos._" Sirius's heart took control of his body and prevented him from leaving the room at Remus's command. He blinked in the sudden light of the werewolf's wand. Remus pulled back the curtains from the bed so they were fully open.

"What are you doing here?" Remus repeated James's question.

Sirius was aware of Peter sitting up in his bed and peering with sleepy curiosity through his curtains.

"I…I just wanted to check…" _That you were still as wonderful as you always were. That you weren't suffering from all this as much as I am. That you still looked so darling when you sleep. _

"Check what?" James said shortly.

"To check…to check…" he wrung his hands and took another step back towards the door. Then he stopped as his eyes fell on Remus who was sitting up in bed, his wispy hair wild around his head, his expression screwed-up, though with what emotion Sirius couldn't tell.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm sorry, Moony!" Suddenly he couldn't hold himself back anymore. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please, I didn't mean to…I wasn't thinking…" he staggered forward and fell to the floor by his bed, reaching out for Remus's hands. Remus jerked his hands out of the way, his face closing up.

"Don't call me that!" Remus's breath hitched. "You have no right to call me that!"

Sirius pulled back his hands and clenched them in his lap as he knelt by the bed. "You're right, I don't, I know I don't." He took a deep breath and let it out again. "I don't want you to forgive me, Remus. I'm not asking you to. I just wanted to tell you exactly what happened between Snape and me. Just so you understand…no, not understand, there was nothing understandable about it…just so you… know."

"I don't want to know," Remus whispered. "I don't want to know any more about the whole thing."

Sirius sat back on the floor and pulled his knees up to his chest, pressing his face against them.

"Moony," James said softly. "Maybe you should just hear him out. Don't you want to know exactly what you're angry at him for?"

"No!" Remus gave a shudder. "Because if he t-tells me, I _will _understand, and then I'll f-f-forgive him and I'm so _tired _of forgiving him the whole time. Forgiving and forgiving and forgiving."

Sirius didn't lift his head, but he did hear James getting out of his bed and moving over to Remus. He didn't look up to see the older boy – the unelected leader of their little pack – pull Remus into his arms when it should have been Sirius's job. Peter followed James as well and Sirius heard the bedsprings creak as all three of them huddled together on his bed.

"Moony?" James whispered.

"Fine," Remus said, his voice defeated. "Let him talk."

And that was all Sirius needed. He blurted out everything. It was like he was vomiting the words. The room of light opposite the tapestry of ballet-dancing trolls, the bottle of sherry thrown against the wall, meeting Snape and his threats and blackmail. The misunderstanding about secrets, the brilliantly stupid idea for the Ultimate Prank, the realisation…

He wasn't sure how clear he was. He kept backtracking and remembering things and forgetting things. He kept getting hung up on stupid details like Snape's hanging-vulture-pose against the wall, and forgetting more important ones so he had to go back and explain. He didn't look up the whole time, and only spoke to his knees.

None of the others interrupted him, and eventually he trailed off, waiting for a reaction, any reaction, from the three on the bed.

Eventually, Remus took a deep breath. Sirius felt his eyes dragged up to the other boy's face. Remus was wearing an expression he had never seen before. It was twisted and pained, and so full of anguish it almost rendered him ugly. Sirius had never thought that was possible.

"You were there the last time I spoke to my father," Remus said, and in contrast to his face, his voice was soft and level and sounded almost emotionless. "Do you remember what we said? You watched the whole thing through that glass window."

"Yes," Sirius whispered, unsure of where this was going.

"He spoke to me about price," Remus continued, and this time it was him who looked away from Sirius's face. "He said we have to pay a price. He said there is always a price you have to pay to belong to someone."

"You don't belong to me," Sirius said, feeling sick at the thought. He never thought of Remus as a belonging. A gift, yes, one he didn't deserve, but not a belonging. "You never _belonged _to me. You're your own person."

But Remus was shaking his head. "I gave myself to you. Everything I am, Sirius, and you took it, so I belonged to you. And you gave yourself to me in return. But there was always the _price_, Sirius – just like with my father. All the cruel pranks, all the worry, all the sleepless nights when I had to hold you and watch for your shadows. And I was _happy _to do that for you because I _love _you. But the thing is, I'm always having to _forgive_ you. Forgive you for pulling pranks you know I wouldn't approve of, for getting me caught up in them and punished, even when I had nothing to do with it, for taking so much physical affection from me, and giving me nothing back when I needed it. Forgiving you for breaking your promise to me. And now you're asking for it _again, _Sirius. _More_ forgiveness. And I know you have so much to forgive me for as well…my eccentricities, my nerdiness, my lycanthropy, but I'm just so tired. And now I have to forgive _again._"

It was the longest speech Sirius had _ever _heard Remus make all at once, and every word of it felt like one more physical blow to his chest. And the worse thing about it was that it was _true._ Everything Remus said about him was true.

"I wasn't asking you to forgive me," Sirius said eventually, his voice little more than a croak. "I told you I didn't want you to forgive me. I only wanted you to know what you're hating me for. The truth of it. And you're wrong about another things as well. I never had to forgive you for any of that stuff you said. They're not things I forgave you for. They are the very reasons I fell in love with you in the first place. They're what makes you Remus. They're what makes you our Moony. Or James's and Peter's Moony, now, I suppose."

Remus gave a hiccough and looked away. There was a long silence between them.

The tension was butter-thick and unbearable. Every second if it clawed at Sirius until he couldn't stand it anymore. "You know what? Just…Just…Forget it. I'm going now." He dragged himself to his feet and quickly staggered to the door.

"Sirius, wait!" Remus blurted after him.

But he kept going because this time he wouldn't survive the pain of turning round again. Because he _did _remember Remus's last conversation with his father. He remembered every word of it. It was branded into his brain. And he remembered only too clearly what Remus had said to his father on that day.

"_Is this the price of belonging to you? Because I don't think I'm willing to pay that price anymore."_

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

He didn't go to back the hospital wing. He got as far as the corridor outside before he spotted the door leading outside. He opened it and stepped out. The late October air was icy and cut right through his thin hospital pyjamas and all the way to his bone marrow, but he still felt choked by the unbearable tension that had followed him down from the Gryffindor tower. He had lost Remus forever. He knew that for certain now. The knowledge of it was choking him.

He started running - sprinting wildly and breathlessly towards the distant lake, picking up speed on the downhill slope.

His mind was filled with terrible thoughts and images, ones he couldn't block out – not ever again. They were driving him crazy with guilt and self-loathing and hatred towards his family and his blood.

He wished he could take his magic and burn them away. Burn away the taint of shadows and the dark arts. Burn away the impurity of his mother's and father's pureblood genes and all he inherited along with them.

Burn it all away and just stop thinking altogether.

There _was_ a deep burning beginning in his stomach. At first Sirius thought it was his imagination, or an effect of his erratic running. But he had grown up with magic all his life and he recognised the heat of raw power as he felt it. It gathered from his core deep inside him and built in his belly, shifting and growing.

He smiled. This was it. He was burning. Burning it all away. His thoughts, his blood, his wickedness, his love. Everything he was. It raced up from his stomach in rivers of fire through his veins it filled him and grew hotter and hotter. He ran harder and harder, careening down the hill as the fire filled him. This was it. What did they call it? Spontaneous combustion, wasn't it? When a person just caught fire and burned from the inside out. Blissful oblivion.

And then it exploded, filling him, expanding. He was knocked off his feet by the power of it, rolling head-over-heads down the hill, his eyes closed, his limbs jerking until he finally slowed to a stop on the banks of the lake.

He lay still for a long moment, huffing and snorting and trying to catch his breath. Was he still on fire? Why didn't it hurt?

Slowly, slowly, he opened his eyes.

The whole world had gone grey.


	56. Finding Padfoot

**Disclaimer: If you haven't realised after the last fifty-something chapters that Harry Potter's world is not mine, I have no idea how you're managing to make sense of this story…**

_**"Forgiveness is the final form of love."  
(Reinhold Niebuhr)  
**_

**REMUS:**

The moment he opened his eyes, Remus knew that something was terribly wrong. For one thing, it was night time, yet he could feel from the tugging on his wolf-self that the full moon was already two days away. That meant he had been in his child-like state for longer than he ever had before.

For another thing, he was in agony. After ten years of suffering through full moons and abuse from his father, Remus knew he had a high pain threshold, but even he felt that this pain was beyond the usual, bearable level. When he tried to move his body, it was completely stiffened and coated with a mixture of bandages and potions.

What on earth had happened?

His little Hospital Wing room was gloomy, the only light coming from a candle on the little shelf over the basin. It flickered and sent shadows skittering across the walls, shadows that Remus knew would have scared Sirius had he been here. On the little cabinet beside his bed, there was a pile of sweets and chocolates, as well as a pain-killing potion.

"Madame Pomfrey?" His voice was pathetically weak and croaky, and his throat felt like it was coated in a layer of dry bread. She must have set an alarm-spell though, because in spite of his almost inaudible call, she bustled in a few seconds later, her arms full of potions.

"It's good to see you're finally yourself, Remus," she said as she leant over him and began casting diagnostic spells. She gently slipped her arms beneath his shoulders and helped to prop him up against his pillows. "Here, drink this."

Remus raised his arms stiffly, inhibited by the bandages and clumsily drank the potion she handed him. He felt the pain and stiffness abate a little.

"What happened?" he croaked, searching his fuzzy post-moon memories and only getting a strong sense of anguish and desertion. He remembered screaming a lot, and people – James, Peter and Madame Pomfrey – trying to calm him. Other than that it was pretty much blank. "Where's Sirius? What's going on?" He broke off to cough as his raised voice irritated his scream-damaged throat.

"Don't talk, Remus." Madame Pomfrey reached out and smoothed the hair away from his forehead and tucked it behind his ear. "I think it will be best if your friends tell you what happened. They're just finishing dinner. They should be here any minute now."

"Oh, Merlin," Remus whispered. "I hurt someone, didn't I? I hurt _Sirius_, didn't I? That's why he wasn't there. I h – " He was overtaken by another violent fit of coughing.

"No!" Madame Pomfrey sat on the edge of his bed and gripped his hand comfortingly. "Everyone is fine. I promise you."

It didn't escape Remus's notice that she said avoided saying 'no one got hurt'.

"Please," he whispered. "Tell me what happened!"

"Remus, I really don't think – "

"Moony!" He and Madame Pomfrey jumped and swung round to see James and Peter entering the room. Expressions of great relief decorated both their faces when they spotted Remus's calm, rational appearance. He guessed – from the raw feeling of his cheeks – that he had been crying a lot over the two days. _Two days!_ The thought frightened him. What if – one day – his mind just never came back? What if he was stuck in his childlike state forever?

"Hey guys," he rasped at them. He looked beyond them to the door, waiting for Sirius to make an appearance. "Where's Padfoot?"

Both of them winced and Remus felt his heart jerk in horror. He turned to stare at Madame Pomfrey. "You _promised_!" he accused her hoarsely, hating the way his voice sounded so high and childish. He could feel Moony pacing restlessly close to the surface, making it hard to think. "You _promised _he wasn't hurt! You said he was okay!" This time he ended up coughing so badly that tears ran down his raw cheeks as he gasped for breath. There was a faintly metallic taste at the back of his mouth.

"He _is _okay, Moony," Peter reassured him, hurrying over to the bed, closely followed by James. "Please just listen. We have to tell you what happened."

"What?" His voice was barely more than a wheeze now.

"Um…" Peter looked to James, obviously unwilling to take on the task himself.

"I'll go," Madame Pomfrey murmured. "Try not to upset him too much please, boys." She stood up and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

"Moony." James moved to take Madame Pomfrey's place on the edge of Remus's bed. "What do you remember?"

"N-Nothing," Remus whispered, trying not to agitate his throat any more. "Sirius and I had a small argument in the l-l-library, but it wasn't bad, and we sort of made up. But I w-wanted to be on my own so I went to the hospital wing early. That's all I remember."

"You had an argument?" Peter asked, looking unnerved. "You two never argue."

"I w-was trying to talk Lily around for you, James," Remus said. "To make up for h-h-hurting you. But Sirius came in and r-ruined it. He didn't mean to. He was j-just trying to protect me."

"Protect you?" To Remus's bemusement, Peter sounded a little disbelieving.

"Of course he was!" Remus said, his voice rising a little louder than a whisper in his vehemence. "You know he always does. Snape was being m-mean to me. He c-c-called me a lapdog."

"Oh, Moony, I'm sorry," James said, reaching out to touch his bandaged arm.

Remus shook his head impatiently, then winced as his aching neck protested. "Just tell me what happened, please." He couldn't help his eyes drifting to the door. If Sirius wasn't hurt, why wasn't he here yet? Perhaps he was just held up eating extra pudding at dinner. Or maybe he was getting some for Remus. He did that sometimes.

"Moony," Peter said in the gentlest tone Remus had ever heard from him. "He's not coming." He dropped down into the chair next to the bed.

"Why?" Remus hated that his voice could sound that pathetic.

James took a deep breath, obviously preparing himself for a hard task. "After you left him for the hospital wing, he went and got himself drunk again." It was clear that he was trying to keep his voice calm and matter-of-fact. "I'm not really sure of all the details, but he somehow ended up wandering round the school completely smashed. He ran into Sniv-Snape."

Remus didn't miss the fact that James had not used Snape's derogatory nickname. He did not even want to imagine what could be so serious that James would be reduced to that small show of respect for the Slytherin.

"Anyway, I think they got into an argument or something and Sirius…he…he…" James swallowed and his fingers clenched in Remus's Gryffindor-red bedspread. "He told Snape how to…how to get through the Whomping Willow." His voice was so soft at the end, that if Remus hadn't had werewolf hearing, he probably would have missed it. As it was, Remus felt as though someone had shot him directly through the chest with a silver bullet. A sharp pain lanced through his chest and a harsh burning seemed to emanate from it throughout his body. "No…" he mouthed, not even able to say the word aloud.

"Moony? Moony?" James was shaking him gently, trying not to aggravate his wounds, but he needn't have bothered. Remus felt so distant from everything, he wasn't sure he would even have felt it.

James was peering at him with wide, worried hazel eyes, and Peter had reached out to grip his shin with a warm hand. "I don't…I don't think he meant to," James said, voice trembling. "He was drunk. And he tried to stop Snape after he realised what he'd done. I met him running down one of the corridors and told him to go and get Dumbledore. Then I ran out to stop Snape."

"You…?" Remus looked at James feeling dizzy and faint.

"I had to, Rem. I had to stop him before Moony got to him. Anyway, I ran out just in time to see him disappear into the entrance under the Willow, so I went in after him. I tried to call to him to stop, but when he heard me he just started going faster and yelling 'It's too late, Potter. I know about the passage now'." James twisted his hands further into the bedspread, his face tilted down so he wasn't looking at Remus.

"I ran after him," he continued. "And then ran _into_ him, because you – Moony, I mean – had suddenly started howling. He stopped and went completely white and turned round to look at me. He said 'It goes to the Shrieking Shack, doesn't it?'" James gave a shaky laugh. "He didn't even sound angry. Just really, really calm – that calm you get when you're proper terrified. I said we had to run away, and I think he was about to agree, but then Moony started howling again even more loudly, because I think he picked up our scent. I heard him banging round the upstairs room and then coming down the stairs. We were so far down the passage we were almost at the Shack by then, and the trapdoor leading up from the passage wasn't shut properly, so I ran up and tried to slam it just as Moony got there."

Remus felt himself beginning to hyperventilate, his breath coming out in short gasps that he tried to control. James shot him a worried look, but continued when Remus sent him a pleading look.

"Moony banged against the other side of the trapdoor and flung me out the way." James touched his own shoulder, which Remus noticed was bulky with bandages under his school robe. "You…Moony, I mean, started to crawl through and Snape started screaming. I think he actually wet himself then. I can't even blame him. You're bloody terrifying in that form, Rem. Your mouth and teeth were already all bloody from tearing yourself up, and your hackles were up. You looked completely feral. Luckily I hadn't dropped my wand and I sent a blasting curse at Moony. It hit pretty hard and I'm really sorry about that. It tossed you all the way back along the hall and that old dresser fell on top of you, I think. Anyway, I slammed the trapdoor shut before you could recover, and Snape – bloody coward _Snape _– actually came up and leant against it with me. It's a good thing he did, too, because you got up and started throwing yourself against it again. I think you hurt Snape's arm."

Peter snorted and James shot him a reprimanding glare.

"Luckily," James said, wincing at the word and sending an apologetic look at Remus, "Moony was pretty beat up by then, so he wasn't so strong. I used that locking spell we use on our trunks and grabbed Snape's robes and we legged it back up the passage to the Willow entrance. The spell isn't that strong because it's only meant for trunks, so just before we got there, we heard the trapdoor break. We threw ourselves out and I just managed to bang on the knot of the tree before we got pummelled. Dumbledore was just running towards us – completely barefoot and in his pyjamas – and I'm afraid he sent another blasting curse at Moony again to stop him escaping before the Willow started moving again."

James stopped then, and Remus couldn't help noticing that the strong, Quidditch-hands that clenched in his bedspread were shaking with suppressed emotion. Remus wondered what that emotion was. Fear from having seen his wolf side? Disgust? Remus felt a wave of nauseating guilt wash over him.

"Oh, God!" he whispered. "OhGodohGodohGod. I almost killed you. And I almost k-k-k-killed Snape. Oh _God_." And then something else clicked into place in his mind. "I'm going to be expelled, aren't I?" He looked at James, and knew his face was drained of colour. "Snape will tell everybody, and I will be expelled and sent to the Ministry and k-killed or put in a r-r-reservation." He knew he was getting hysterical, but couldn't stop himself. "And _Sirius _did this to me! M-my Sirius…"

To his shame he felt tears begin to trickle down his face.

"Oh, Moony." James reached out and very, very gently put his arms around Remus. "You're not going to be expelled. Dumbledore made Snape promise not to tell. He won't tell. He won't."

"But he _should_," Remus said, his whole body trembling in James's hold. "I almost killed two people last n-night. I _should _be put d-down."

"No." This time it was Peter who spoke, tentatively taking one of Remus's hands in his own and trying to uncurl his fingers that were so tightly clenched his blunt nails cut into his palm. "It wasn't your fault, Moony. Not your fault at all. It was Sirius's fault, and Snape's for baiting him. And it was also Sirius's family's fault for making him go all crazy like that."

It was strange, Remus thought, the way he felt now. Part of him was just sitting quietly still and blank with shock inside his head. Another piece of him was burning with anger at Sirius and what he had done. And even bigger part of him was desperately trying to piece together James's story so that it would somehow fit in his head and make sense. Moony wasn't helping at all by keeping up a constant, mental howling over the betrayal of his most precious pack member.

It was like a dream he thought; one of those dreams where you keep switching from being in the scene and inside your head, to being outside and watching from a distance. And everything you see you _know _is right, and at the same time makes no sense at all.

"Moony?" James was trying to get his attention.

Remus looked at him blankly. "Leave me, please."

"Remus – "

"Please."

James and Peter glanced helplessly at one another, then stood up to go. James hesitated, hovering over the bed, his fists clenching and unclenching in helpless agitation. Remus knew he wanted to give him one of his trademark strong, manly hugs but was prevented by Remus's damaged state. In a sudden, impulsive, clumsy movement James bent down again and pressed his lips lightly to Remus's forehead. It was such an odd, un-James-like thing to do that a thread of surprise managed to penetrate Remus's blank state and he blinked up at James who looked like he already regretted the action. He pressed his fist tightly to his lips as if reprimanding them. Peter was staring at him in open-mouthed shock.

"Just don't – _please _don't – do anything stupid," James muttered around his hand. "Merlin knows Sirius is doing enough of that recently for all three of us." Looking scarlet with embarrassment, he spun on his heel and stalked out the room, followed by a bewildered Peter.

Remus slowly, painfully raised a hand to touch his forehead. He had felt everything James had been unable to say in that kiss. All the things he had wanted to pass on in a hug. Helpless, brotherly affection. Protectiveness as the unofficial leader of the Marauder pack. An apology on behalf of the one who wasn't allowed to apologise – not yet. Maybe not ever.

It said – breaking through all Remus's barriers of shock and hurt and anger and confusion – you are not alone. You are not alone.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus knew he had to be angry. He had to _stay _angry, because what Sirius had done was unforgivable. In the days following his release from the hospital wing, he had to force himself to completely ignore the pathetic, skinny shadow of a person that hovered round the edges of every class with hunched, defensive shoulders bent over his work.

He had to ignore the fact that the same shadow-person wasn't in the dorm and wasn't at breakfast or lunch or dinner for days that turned into weeks. He had to ignore the fact that this person got more skinny and more hunched and more shadowy every day.

He had to ignore him, because the minute he stopped and looked up, and saw that the gaunt, fragile, stooping figure was his Sirius – his _Padfoot _– he would helplessly forgive everything. Again. As he always did. Lapdog…lap_wolf_…that he was. Total, angry, irrepressible forgiveness that he was helpless to hold back.

It didn't help that he was also trying to ignore Snape's snide comments of 'dirty dark creature' and 'pervert' and 'animal', and Lily's unavoidable pitying expression, and James and Peter's fumbling attempts at comfort and advice.

He knew he shouldn't forgive Sirius, but everything in him was aching to do it. He missed Sirius with an intensity that was almost frightening. He couldn't eat properly, couldn't sleep, couldn't concentrate in classes. James and Peter, in uncharacteristic displays of compassionate subtlety, didn't comment the first time he crawled into Sirius's bed rather than his own at night, and curled around the other boy's pillow, breathing in the lingering blue-grey scent of approaching rainstorms that got fainter and fainter every night.

But of course, Sirius – being Sirius and impossible to ignore even in a state of deepest depression – had to break through Remus's fragile shields and sneak up to the dorm. And what was worse was that he hadn't come to beg for forgiveness. He hadn't come to intentionally disturb Remus at all. He had just hovered quietly beside the bed and watched Remus as he slept. But Remus wasn't sleeping and Sirius's guilt, sorrow and self-loathing was so potent Remus could actually smell it – sharp and bitter and silver, like a needle pressed through a frozen lemon.

And he was furious, because he felt that rising wave of irrepressible forgiveness rise in him in response.

Remus was not entirely clear on the conversation that followed. He remembered, too clearly, Sirius's story of the events of the night of The Prank. And he _did _understand, as he knew he would. And he _did _forgive. And the fact that he did made him shake with anger so he blurted things out at Sirius. They were jumbled, angry, half-formed thoughts, full of accusations of price and belonging and forgiveness. It was a dam breaking open and he was helpless to stop himself, even as he saw the way each word hit home like a physical blow, and Sirius's gaunt and shivering form shrank further and further away from him.

His heart screamed at him to stop, and eventually he did. But it was too late by then, and now he had to watch as Sirius left again. Left _him _again, and – _Merlin_ - he deserved every minute of pain it caused him.

"That was really harsh, mate," James said, breaking the oppressive quiet that followed Sirius's departure.

Remus's breath hitched. "I know," he whispered. "But I couldn't s-stop once I had started. I couldn't stop. I should g-g-go after him."

He tried to climb out of bed, but James held him back. "It's in the middle of the night, Moony. You can't just go wondering round the halls."

"I _have _to. You saw what I did to him."

"It _was _harsh," Peter broke in. "But none of it was a lie. It was true, everything you said about him."

Remus jerked away from James and climbed off Sirius's bed. "But I didn't mean to say any of it. It just came out. And what if he...what if he goes off and slits his wrists or something?"

Both James and Peter went pale. "You think he would?" Peter asked tremulously.

Remus just looked at him.

"Oh Merlin, we have to find him!" James flung himself off his bed and skidded across the floor to throw open Remus's trunk. "Map, map, where's the bloody map?"

Map! Remus cursed the fact that his brain was so sluggish and unresponsive. _He _should have thought of the map.

"It's not _here!_" James said, flinging Remus's possessions around on the floor.

"Maybe we put it back in one of our trunks," Peter suggested. "We haven't used it since…you know…Sirius…"

Remus hurried over to James's trunk and started rooting through it, while Peter tried his own. James finished with Remus's trunk and started – hesitantly – on Sirius's. It was almost ten minutes later that James gave a triumphant yell and held up the piece of blank parchment.

"We'll need the invisibility cloak," Remus said, his brain just managing to catch up and function.

The three of them looked at their chaos of jumbled belongings and groaned. Then Peter let out an even louder groan and slapped his forehead. He held up his wand and said, "_Accio_ invisibility cloak."

James and Remus avoided one another's eyes, both feeling rather sheepish.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," James muttered, tapping the map with his wand. Remus and Peter bent over it as well, their eyes flicking over the tiny, named dots of Hogwarts' occupants. Luckily, most people were in their beds which meant that there would be less confusion as people moved around.

"He's not on here," Remus whispered eventually, his voice cracking. "What if he…what if he already…"

"He _has _to be on here somewhere," Peter said, bending even closer over the map. He sounded as tearful as Remus felt.

"I can't see – "

"_There!_" James interrupted Remus, jabbing a finger at the map. Remus thought his heart might explode in relief when he saw a tiny moving dot labelled 'Sirius Black' weave its way clumsily up the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack.

"You think he might be drunk again?" James asked, sending Remus a worried glance. "He doesn't look very steady. He keeps bouncing off the walls of the tunnel."

"I don't care," Remus said, snatching the cloak from Peter's hands and hurrying towards the door. "Come on - the minute he reaches the end of the tunnel he'll disappear off the map."

James and Peter scrambled over the mess of belongings cluttering the floor to join him. The three of them didn't really fit under the cloak, especially since they were travelling at such a fast pace. Remus wondered if it would actually be better or worse for Filch to catch three bodiless legs wandering the corridors at night rather than three full humans. Perhaps his shock would give them time to run away?

He needn't have worried. James kept his eye on the map and guided them away from corridors containing Filch. They headed towards the door leading outside from the Hospital Wing corridor. It was already partly open and creaked in the cold October wind that whistled through it.

"Hurry up," Remus begged, as James paused to close the door behind him.

"If it slams shut in the wind, Pomfrey will wake up and realise Sirius is gone," James snapped, his worry making him short-tempered.

"I'm so stupid," Remus muttered, as they pulled off the cloak and jogged towards the Willow, uncovered. "This is all my fault."

"Rubbish, Moony," James panted, casting round for a long stick to poke the knot in the tree trunk. "This is just a really horrible, unavoidable mess that we're going to fix as soon as we've found him."

He found a long, flexible branch and jabbed at the knot, hitting it on his second try. Remus didn't wait for Peter or James. He put on an extra burst of speed, fuelled by his werewolf stamina, and plunged himself into the entrance of the secret passage, running, stumbling, down the long tunnel, pausing only to pull his wand out of the waistband of his pyjamas to light his way. He could hear James and Peter behind him, struggling to catch up.

At last he reached the trapdoor up into the hall of the Shrieking Shack. It was cracked and buckled from the events of the last full moon. Remus hesitated for a second before he pushed it open and pulled himself through.

Where was Sirius? He lifted his head and breathed in deeply. The whole house smelled of mould, dust and rotting wood, overlaid with blood and wolf. It was powerful and nauseating, but in amongst those smells, he could just make out Sirius's gentler scent, heading up the stairs. There was something slightly off about it. Something not-quite-Sirius, and Remus felt his stomach tighten in worry.

He hurried up the stairs and flung open the door his battered bedroom. He was about to plunge inside when he skidded to a halt. Inside the bedroom, crouched under the window, its hackles raised, and lips drawn back in a snarl of defensive surprise, was the Grim. It was a massive, black spectral dog; its body as large and shaggy as a young bear's, its ears pointed and demonic in exactly the same way it was in illustrations.

Remus was frozen with shock. All he could think of was a line from his third-year DADA text book. _The Grim is an omen of death. Having a vision of the Grim can foretell one's own death or the death of a loved one…_

There were hurried footsteps on the stairs behind him, and suddenly James was beside him, skidding to a halt, just as Remus had done. "_Oh Merlin,_" he breathed in horror. "We're too late."

Then Peter arrived, and not having been blessed same coordination as James and Remus, bashed right into them, sending the three of them sprawling on the floor. Remus received a mouthful of James's hair and dust from the floor, and his hand landed in a crusted, tacky patch on the floor that his sensitive nose recognised as dry werewolf's blood.

He stiffened when he heard Peter's excited shout.

"Padfoot! You did it!"

Bemused, and struggling to escape from the tangle of boy-limbs on the floor, Remus turned to stare at Peter in shock. The chubby Marauder was staring at the demon-dog with an expression of delight on his round face, and suddenly everything clicked in Remus's head. He remembered Sirius's delighted exclamation after he had broken out of his meditation from the animagus potion.

"_The Grim! The Grim! I'm the Grim. Take that, you mangy hedgehogs!"_

The huge black dog, which was currently backing away from them and slinking under the bed was Sirius in his animagus form. Oh course! How completely and utterly stupid he was! Of _course _it was Sirius.

He noticed that James was looking more than a little embarrassed as well.

"Padfoot?" Remus jerked himself away from the Marauder-pile he had landed in and crawled across the floor to peer under the bed. This close, his nose couldn't be fooled. It was definitely Sirius under there, though his scent now carried a new, jagged, canine aspect. "Padfoot, you did it!"

There was a soft whimper from under bed, filled with doggy-anguish.

"I'm sorry I shouted at you," Remus said, peering into the shadows and trying to make out Padfoot's dark shape. The air beneath the bed was sharp with the scent of grief and hurt and guilt, but there was no trace of fear. Remus wondered whether Sirius had overcome his dilapidating fear of darkness, or whether it was such a complex, psychological terror that it didn't fit into Padfoot's simplified canine brain.

"I do forgive you," Remus said, keeping his voice as gentle as possible. "And I _want _to forgive you. I'm sorry I said those things to you, my Padfoot. You're worth any price I have to pay for you. I've missed you so much the last couple of weeks – you must know that. You found me in your bed, for Merlin's sake."

There was an answering whine from under the bed and a shifting in the shadows. A furry, black head emerged to peer sorrowfully at Remus through large, grey eyes.

"Come on," Remus whispered, reaching out with a shaky hand to touch the top of Padfoot's head. "You're a dog now. Can't you _smell _how sorry I am?"

The canine language wasn't equipped to deal with the complexities of this situation. It didn't contain words like 'inconsolable' or 'heart-broken', or 'soul-wrenching guilt'. It didn't even really have suitable words for a simple phrase like 'I'm so very, very sorry that I don't think I can ever make it up to you.'

But Sirius did the best he could under the circumstances. As Remus reached under the bed and slid his arms around the trembling, soft-furred chest, and dragged him out and into his lap, Padfoot breathed out a stream of soft huffing whimpers that were translated by Remus's wolf-side to, "Bad dog...bad dog...Padfoot bad dog! Hurt Moony - hurt Padfoot's Moony. Bad dog..."

And Remus couldn't help a broken, sobbing laugh from escaping his lips as he bent his head to bury his face in the thick fur of Padfoot's ruff. He hated the fact that he could feel every one of Sirius's ribs clearly defined under the covering of his black coat.

He ran his hands along Padfoot's head, shoulders and sides, trying to comfort and reassure.

"Yes," he mumbled against Padfoot's ear. "Yes, you were a bad dog, but you are _my _bad dog and I will always love you anyway."


	57. Hiding Padfoot

**Disclaimer: You all know the Marauder's world is not mine, but JK Rowling's.**

_"Avoidance is a wonderful therapy"_

_(Maggie Stiefvater, _Linger)

**SIRIUS:**

It was indescribably wonderful to be in Remus's arms again, even in the form of Padfoot. He cuddled up against the werewolf's chest and breathed in deeply, enjoying the way that his new canine nose picked up so much more of Remus's scent that he had ever smelled before.

Remus smelled of chocolate, ink and the dry, cool stone of the Gryffindor tower. He smelled of old books and the soap the house elves put in every dormitory bathroom, though only Remus ever used it as the other three brought products from home. He smelled of boy and sweat from his sprint through the school to the Whomping Willow.

Those were the surface scents – the ones that came to Padfoot's nose first. As he pressed closer into Remus's arms, he caught new scents, layered under those. There was that fresh, crisp, autumn-smell, that Sirius had caught with his human nose on rare occasions when the surface scents hadn't been so strong. It was vivid and strong, and red-amber-gold, though how a smell could have a colour, Sirius didn't know. It reminded him of dry leaves, pine needles and damp earth. There was another aspect to it, too – one his human nose hadn't been sensitive enough to pick up. It was coiled and feral; leaving a lingering impression of fur and heat and bloodlust. Remus's scent was as contradictory and complex as his personality.

Sirius wasn't sure if Remus would understand his jumbled, doggy apologies. The canine language was frustratingly simple and his human mind scrambled for words that would convey what he felt. It didn't help that in this form, his was unable to hold more that two complex thoughts in his head at a time. His mind was still human, but there seemed to be less room to _think _in it. And his emotions seemed so much simpler. He'd ceased to feel fear of outside shadows weeks ago- when he realised the shadows inside himself were so much darker and wickeder. But even the fear of his own inner shadows seemed to have disappeared now. His mind and heart were too busy feeling guilty and anguished and sorry. While he felt all that, there was no room for the complicated, memory-blackened fears of the human mind.

Or perhaps it was because the red-amber-gold smell of Remus was so bright in his mind that it chased all the shadows away. And his voice was so comforting and warm as he whispered, "Yes. Yes, you were a bad dog, but you are _my _bad dog and I will always love you anyway."

And there is was – the elusive forgiveness that Sirius had not even dared to dream of being given. Remus offered it to him as openly and freely as always, uncaring about the fact that Sirius's actions could have meant his imprisonment, torture or death.

Sirius whimpered with love and happiness. He was heavy and limp with relief as he sagged against Remus, unable to stop himself from licking the fingers of one of Remus's hands as they wandered gently over his ears and muzzle. Remus chucked softly.

"Change back, you silly mutt," he murmured. "I want to hold you properly." It was true. In this form, Sirius was even bigger than Remus than he usually was. Only the front half of his shaggy-furred body fit onto Remus lap. The smaller boy's arms seemed very slim as they cradled Padfoot's big head. And judging by the way his paws seemed a little to large for his body, Sirius guessed that Padfoot was still as adolescent as his human counterpart was, and would probably grow even larger as he got older.

He didn't want to change back, though. Changing back would mean the return of hundreds of complicated thoughts, all at once. It would lead to awkward conversations and real apologies. It would lead to the return of his human fears and the shadows in his mind. Being Padfoot – like drinking alcohol – simplified everything, and gave him a welcome numbness in his head.

So he shook his head and pressed it into Remus's lap, feeling the hands that had been running through the fur of his back grow still. "Come on, Padfoot. Stop messing around. We have to get back inside. Change back. I know you know how. You had no problem getting rid of the ears and tail when you got them."

Sirius shook his head again and looked up at Remus, trying to convey his apology with his eyes alone.

"What's wrong?" James asked, as he and Peter hurried over to crouch beside them at the note of worry in Remus's voice. "Can't he change back?"

"He can," Remus said, his fingers scrunching in Padfoot's fur. "He just won't."

Sirius scrambled awkwardly to his feet, backing away from them with his ears laid flat and his tail between his legs. "No, no," he said in that clumsy canine language. "No man, no man. Padfoot stay. No dark. Padfoot stay."

"Sirius, this is ridiculous!" Remus looked tired and frustrated. "You have to change back. You can't escape by being a dog for the rest of your life. Come on – _please _change back."

"Sirius, mate," James said. "This is stupid. We really do have to get back. And Madame Pomfrey will be looking for you if you're not in your bed."

Sirius shook his head again and turned away to scramble under the bed again. But Remus was too quick, and wrapped his thin arms around Padfoot's barrel-sized chest, keeping him from moving with the aid of his werewolf strength. Sirius noticed that the scent of the wolf grew stronger when Remus drew on it.

"Damn it!" James said, running a hand through his hair and shooting a worried glance at Padfoot. "What the hell are we going to do?"

"We'll have to sneak him back in," Peter said. "We've got the map. We can drape the cloak over him, so that if we do get caught there won't be questions."

"But what about Madame Pomfrey?" Remus asked. "She'll have a heart attack if she sees him gone."

James scowled at Sirius. "Just change back, for Merlin's sake!"

Sirius shrunk back and shook his head again.

The messy-haired Marauder sighed and took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose as his face scrunched up in thought. "Okay, we're going to have to plan this carefully. Um…Pete, if I imitate Sirius's handwriting and scriibble a note to Madame Pomfrey saying he was feeling better and wanted to move back to the dorm, will you take it to the Hospital Wing and leave it on his bed for her? Remus and I will try to sneak the mutt back to our dorm without getting caught."

Sirius could almost smell the relief coming from Remus and Peter. James was in his confident, planning, leader's role, and when that happened, they knew everything would be all right.

"Okay," Peter said. He sighed. "I guess you'll be taking the map and the cloak?"

"Yeah. Sorry, mate."

"If I get detention, you're in deep trouble, Padfoot." Peter glowered at Sirius. "The things we do for you – honestly!"

Sirius trotted over to him and butted Peter's hand in apology.

"You're just lucky I have a soft spot for dogs," Peter said, looking a little mollified.

"No as soft as Moony," James said, sending Remus a suggestive grin.

"Yuck." Remus wrinkled his nose. "You realise that if you stay like that, you'll never get to snog me again, Padfoot?"

Sirius whined and crept up to lick Remus's hand.

Remus sighed. "Please tell me this isn't some screwed-up punishment you're inflicting on yourself. I think you've suffered enough. You're so skinny right now, that if you didn't have so much fur, people'd keep trying to slot toast between your ribs."

Sirius pressed his muzzle into Remus's side, trying to think of a way to explain in the simplified language. "Padfoot need dog now. Just now. Later man."

"What did he say?" Peter asked. "You can understand him, right?"

Remus looked embarrassed. "Yeah. But it's not really a good language for conversations. There's only about fifty words. I think he's saying he needs to be a dog right now and he'll change back when he's ready.

"Well, he'd better get a move on," James said. "He's lucky it's Friday night. After the weekend, people are going to start wondering where he's go to."

"You'll change back before then, won't you?" Remus looked at Padfoot imploringly. Sirius, knowing that he could rarely resist Remus when he wore that expression, avoided his eyes and pressed closer to his side. Remus sighed and scratched his ears, looking worried and frustrated.

Luckily, the time Remus spent in the room leading up to the full moon meant that there was a quill and parchment in the old, battered wardrobe of the Shrieking Shack's bedroom. James scribbled a note to Madame Pomfrey in Sirius's handwriting, his hand easily forming the elegant copperplate curls drilled into pureblood aristocracy as a young age. He handed it to Peter who headed off towards the hospital wing, leaving the map and cloak with his friends and armed only with his knowledge of secret passages and a resigned expression.

The trip back to the Gryffindor tower was very tense. James and Remus covered Padfoot with the invisibility cloak and scoured the map closely before every corner, having to take a few detours to avoid Filch and patrolling teachers. It was in the early hours of the morning when they eventually reached their dorm.

Padfoot shook off the invisibility cloak and leapt up onto Remus's bed, turning in circle before flopping down on the red-and-gold bedspread. Remus's scent rose up around him and he closed his eyes and breathed it in, still unable to believe he had been forgiven.

"You don't think I'm going to let you share my bed like that, do you? Change back." Sirius's head snapped up at Remus's sharp tone, suddenly horrified that he had read too much into the forgiveness and assumed too much. He felt his ears go down and his plumed tail tuck between his legs. He meekly shuffled to the edge of the bed, ready to climb off.

Remus groaned, and hurried over to shove him back again. "I didn't mean it, you dumb mutt. I'm just worried that someone's going to find out about you and you'll get sent to Azkaban or something."

"We all are," James said. He came over to sit on Remus's bed and sighed as he scratched Padfoot's ears – an automatic reaction that he probably would have been horribly embarrassed about if he's taken the time to think about the fact that the black dog was still really Sirius. "We really need to sort out your issues quickly, mate."

His issues. He wanted to protest at the statement, but found that he couldn't. How many normal people preferred the form of a dog to one of a human? He ducked his head and gave a soft whine.

"You'll change back soon, won't you, Pads?" Remus asked. He had kicked off his shoes and was sitting at the top of his bed with his back against his pillow. He stretched out his left leg and scratched Sirius's thick-furred ruff with a sock-clad foot. Sirius would have protested at the indignity, but it felt too comforting. Instead, he nodded in answer to Remus's question.

"When?"

Sirius looked away. Part of him wanted to change right now so that he could pull Remus into his arms and tell him that he was fine and that everything was okay again. The problem with this scenario was that he was _not _fine. He was afraid that when Remus had Sirius Black the pureblood traitor in front of him rather than big fluffy Padfoot, he might realise his mistake and take back his forgiveness. He was sure that the minute he changed back all those horrible fears and shadows would rush back.

_Maybe they won't, _part of him thought hopefully. _Now you have Moony back. _

_He couldn't help me before,_ another part pointed out, thinking of the nights he'd spent curled and shaking in Remus's arms. _And he couldn't now. Even if he still wanted too if I changed back._

"Before Monday, right?" James pressed him. "That gives you two days. After that the teachers will get suspicious. And Pomfrey. We can probably hold her off until then."

He didn't have a choice. No one could find out about his animagus ability. He nodded.

"And then you can tell Pete 'n me how to do it," James said enthusiastically. This is amazing! You won't have to be on your own anymore, Moony."

Before he or Remus could respond, Peter returned looking pink-faced and out of breath. "She caught me," he said, dropping onto Sirius's bed which was nearest the door.

"Who?" James asked in alarm.

"Madame Pomfrey. She caught me while I was putting the note on Sirius's hospital bed."

"What did she say?" Remus shifted forward and encircled Padfoot's neck with his arms protectively.

"It's okay. I said the three of us had sneaked down to visit him and that we were all friends again and that he wanted to stay in the dorm. She looked really happy actually. She wanted Sirius to come for a check-up tomorrow, but I begged her to let him off until Monday and she agreed. You owe me, Padfoot." Peter looked very proud of himself, and Sirius was so relieved that he launched himself off the bed and bowled the chubby Marauder to the floor, giving him a long lick up his cheek.

"_Eew!_" Peter turned scarlet and tried to shove him off. "Get off, you flea-bitten mutt! Remus, help me!"

Remus, obviously managing to contain his laughter more successfully that James, knelt down and pulled Sirius off. "I'll get jealous if you go slobbering all over every guy that does something nice for you," he scolded.

Sirius, suddenly realising that he had effectively just kissed Peter's face, was horrified by his instincts and mimed retching into Peter's lap.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It was a wonderful relief to spend time as a dog. Sirius was perfectly capable of thinking human thoughts, but when he let his mind wonder, instead of dredging up scenes of betrayal and guilt and shadows, it fell back into a natural canine pattern that consisted of food, playing, sleeping and mating. Rather a lot like an average teenage boy, he mused. He wished that he, in reality, had only those things to worry about.

He stayed quietly up in the dorm, curled up and dozing on Remus's bed throughout Saturday. The others brought him food and took turns trying to convince him to change back. Remus, of course, was the hardest to resist, especially when he said nothing at all. He'd just climb onto the bed and curl up against Padfoot's back without saying anything, but Padfoot's sensitive nose could pick up the scent of worry and frustration and – even worse – loneliness from him without even trying. This close to Remus's body, he could smell strong emotions as clearly as he could smell the hot chocolate he'd just consumed, or the ink that stained his fingers.

Sunday came around and Sirius didn't miss the worried expressions his friends exchanged as the day wore on. They were all feeling first effects of cabin fever, having been trapped in the dorm for most of the weekend.

In the end, James flung a full deck of exploding snap cards at the wall, resulting in a loud bang and clouds of smoke.

"Bugger this for a lark," he muttered, sending a dark glare at Sirius. "I'm sick of pandering to your needs when you should be damn well trying to make up for everything you've done. I'm going flying before it gets dark." He stood up, grabbed his broomstick from his trunk, and stalked out the room.

"Sorry, Padfoot," Peter said, getting up to follow him. "But he has a point. If I stay here any longer, I swear I'll claw my own eyeballs out just for something to do."

Sirius sat up on Remus's bed and watched them go. He couldn't find it in himself to blame them. He knew he was being difficult. But he couldn't deny the shard stab of hurt he felt when Remus stood up and began pulling books and parchment from his trunk as well.

"Don't look at me like that," he said crossly, when Sirius peered at him over the edge of the bed. "I'm not the one to blame here." Yet he still leaned over to kiss the top of Padfoot's head before he made his way out the room. "I'll bring up some food later. I'm just going to the library."

The room was even more boring with the other three gone, and Sirius began to think he'd rather change back and face the shadows and the possibility of Remus retracting his forgiveness, than suffer another hour in the room. He couldn't even read anything as his clumsy paws made it impossible to turn pages.

It was just after dark that Remus returned, and Sirius took one look at him and knew something was wrong. Remus, instead of going to his own bed where Sirius was lying, took one look at Padfoot's lounging form and threw himself onto Sirius's bed, burying his face in the pillow.

Sirius felt a wave of alarm run through him and leapt off Remus's bed and onto his own. The werewolf curled away from him silently, his face still buried.

Sirius cocked his head to the side and tried to debate what to do. He leant down and pressed his muzzle to the back of Remus's neck.

"Stop it!" Remus rolled over and shoved him away, his extra strength causing Padfoot to slip backwards off the bed with a thump. "Can't you take a hint? I don't _want _you here!" His face was twisted up with some unnamed emotion. The only other time Sirius had seen him like this was on Friday evening when Remus had screamed his accusations in Sirius's face. He remembered thinking it was the only time Remus almost looked ugly, and that he had never believed it was possible.

Sirius backed away, lost and uncertain. What on earth had he done? Remus had seemed fine when he left.

Then Remus looked at Padfoot and his face relaxed a bit, screwing up in a different way, like post-moon Moony did when he was about to cry. "Oh, I'm s-sorry, Padfoot," he whispered, his voice hoarse and shaking. "It's not your fault. It's just – something s-s-someone said to me. It made me think…"

His whole body scrunched up and Sirius could see he was trembling and could smell the hurt and loathing coming from him. For a moment Sirius thought the loathing was aimed at him, then he saw the way Remus pulled roughly on his own hair and dug his nails into his own cheeks and realised that it was aimed at the himself.

And suddenly anger filled him. Bright, burning, and above all _human _anger that _someone _had dared to say something that made _his Moony_ felt hatred for himself. _Screw _his own stupid problems. _Someone _was going to pay.

He felt his magic building in his belly again, hot and fiery like liquid flame. It rushed through his veins and spread just under his skin until he felt as though sparks were spitting and jumping on every part of him. And he slowly melted back to his own human form, skinny and pale and dressed in ghastly hospital pyjamas.

Without pausing to get his bearings, he flung himself onto his bed and scooped Remus's curled form into his arms, running his hand up and down the trembling back and murmuring, "It's okay, it's okay," while Remus struggled weakly against him.

Eventually the the other boy gave up his struggles – which had been half-hearted at best – and seemed to sag against Sirius, burying his face into his shoulder. "It's n-not okay. It's _not_!" he mumbled, his voice muffled.

"Tell me what happened. Tell me who upset you," Sirius begged.

But Remus just shook his head and curled his arms around Sirius's waist, pressing himself further into the embrace. "Thank you for changing back," was all he said. "Thank you, thank you…"

But Sirius knew that Padfoot hadn't been the reason behind Remus's breakdown, and he swore to himself that whoever it had been would pay in _blood_.


	58. Under the Skin Spots

REMUS:

**Disclaimer: 58 chapters – that's a lot of times to have claimed that I am not JK Rowling. I wonder if it will give me a personality disorder in time? :P**

**Hey!**

**Sorry this has taken a while to come. I hope the length of this chapter makes it worth the wait. I have started another story if any of you are interested in reading it. **

**As ever, thanks to my wonderful beta, Hydraspit who has suffered through 58 typo-ridden chapters and is still going strong. I don't know what I would do without her. **

**Review, please! I love to hear from you. **

**Moonsign x**

**REMUS:**

Remus couldn't deny that he felt guilty about leaving Padfoot up in the dorm room all on his own with nothing to entertain him. But it was the only idea the three of them had been able to come up with to encourage the stubborn animagus to change back into his human form. They hoped that Sirius's boredom of being up there on his own all Sunday evening would get him to change back. Patience was not one of Sirius's virtues.

"I wondered if you were going to go through with it," James said, as Remus entered the kitchens. He and Peter were sitting at the kitchen table, and James's broom was leaning against the wall. He had obviously not really been planning on flying, and Remus didn't blame him as it was tipping it down with rain outside. Remus slid into the seat opposite James and huffed out a sigh.

"I almost didn't," Remus informed him. "He just looked so hurt and confused sitting there on my bed watching me with his head cocked to the side."

"I didn't look at him on my way out," James admitted. "I know I would have given in. Whoever it was up there that thought a big fluffy dog would be a good animagus form for him was having a laugh. His puppy-dog eyes were bad enough before. Here, Moony, have a chocolate muffin to cheer you up."

Remus took a muffin from the plate an eager house elf was holding out to him and bit into it. The kitchen was a low-ceilinged, warm room that was dimly lit by the large open fires set into two of the stone walls. It was a hive of activity, and house elves scurried around busily, most of them oblivious to the three boys at the table once they were sure they were being served. Some cooked, while others carrying bags of laundry disappeared in and out of a small, elf-sized door set into the wall beside one of the three massive, antique stoves on which dozens of pots were simmering and bubbling. The air was filled with the comforting, herb-laced scent of the chicken casserole they were serving for tonight's dinner.

"Do you think it'll work?" Peter asked after a while. "Leaving him in there to get bored enough to change back?"

"I really don't know," said Remus. He poured himself a cup of tea from the tray on the table and took a sip. "I can't work out quite why he won't change back. I think he's afraid of something but I don't know what it is. I don't know how serious his determination is."

"You know, Moony," James said, flashing a grin at Remus's glum expression, "You couldn't have chosen a more high maintenance boyfriend if you tried."

"Yeah," Peter agreed, shooting a mischievous glace at the messy-haired Marauder. "You could have chosen to have a nice simple relationship like James and Evans. You could keep asking someone out, and they could keep hexing you in response. Everyone knows where they stand."

James scowled and flung a cinnamon pastry at Peter's head. It hit his nose and dropped in to his lap. "At least I make the effort to ask her out. You've never asked out anyone. And I saw you eyeing up that Ravenclaw in Charms on Thursday."

Peter flushed Gryffindor-scarlet and ducked his head, taking a bite out of the cinnamon pastry and then proceeding to choke on it.

Remus felt his mood lightening for the first time since Sirius's refusal to turn back, and he couldn't help laughing as James hammered Peter on his back until Peter snorted a small piece of pastry out his nose.

"That's really grim, mate," James said, making a face as he edged away from the soggy lump on the table.

"So who is it, Wormtail?" Remus asked kindly, feeling a bit guilty for his laughter when it appeared Peter was not going to recover from his embarrassment any time soon. Peter mumbled something and went even redder. Remus hoped it wasn't actually possible to explode from embarrassment, because if it was, the whole school would be picking bits of Peter out of their chicken casserole at dinner.

"What did you say?"

"Doreen Short," James answered for Peter, an unrepentant grin still lighting his face. "Ravenclaw. Quiet. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Moustache."

"She doesn't have a moustache!" Peter said defensively, apparently able to find his voice again in order to defend the object of his affection.

"She does, I'm afraid, mate," James said. Peter looked so hurt that James took pity on him. "It's not a bad one," he assured the chubby Marauder. "And it's only visible in well-lit rooms. It's quite attractive really. If I wasn't completely devoted to the wonderful Evans I'd go for her myself."

"I think she's a lovely girl," said Remus, cutting into James's tirade before he dug himself any deeper. "I see her in the library sometimes. She has a really nice smile." He decided not to comment on the moustache that unfortunately _was _fairly noticeable, even in slightly dimmer light. Doreen would have been attractive if she wasn't chronically shy and shaved once a day. He also decided not to comment on the fact that he once thought he heard someone gargling mouthwash in the transfiguration section of the library, and it turned out to be her laughing. "And big blue eyes," he added, to make up for the guilt his thoughts caused him.

Peter's face lit up. "Yeah, that's what drew me to her," he said, ignoring James and looking at Remus eagerly. "She has such big blue eyes and really dark brown hair. It's beautiful."

"So are you going to ask her out?" Remus asked.

Peter looked petrified at the thought. "No way! What if she said no?"

"Evans says no to me all the time," James pointed out. "If it wasn't for Kemp, I'd never have been snogged."

Remus wrinkled his nose. "What happened to poor Bronwyn anyway? She hasn't been hanging round for ages."

James shrugged. "Dunno. Didn't write to her over the summer and she's been ignoring me. Don't care, to be honest. She was a bit boring. And Evans wasn't jealous of her."

"Anyway," Peter interrupted meaningfully, "I don't have as much confidence as you, Prongs. If she said no, I think I'd melt from embarrassment. Besides, why would she want to go out with me when there are loads more good looking boys in school?"

"I think you're good-looking," Remus assured him. It wasn't a lie. Peter wasn't classically handsome or dynamic like James or Sirius, but his face was round and boyish and good-natured, if a little chubby. Besides, Remus wasn't entirely sure there were many of the more good-looking boys who would so willingly overlook the moustache, so Doreen's options were probably as limited as Peter's.

"How would you know?" Peter asked, looking miserable.

Remus exchanged a look with James who rolled his eyes. "Moony's as gay as a maypole," James said. "Of course he'd know."

"No, I'm not," Remus protested, feeling indignant. "You're making it sound like I'm one of those limp-wristed girly-guys. I'll have you know, I could crush every bone in your arm with one hand and not even break a sweat."

"I never said anything of the sort," said James. "Have you ever fancied any girls?"

"Er – no." He hadn't really fancied anyone except Sirius, but he wasn't planning on telling James that. The others saw him as enough of an innocent prude as it was.

"Well then, you _are_ gay. That doesn't mean you're not manly and tough."

"Good. Because I am."

"We know, Rem," Peter assured him.

"I'm being overly-sensitive, aren't I?" Remus suddenly felt very tired as he spotted the wary looks on James's and Peter's faces.

"It's okay. We know you're worried." James reached out and squeezed his arm reassuringly.

Remus sighed and stood up, swinging his book bag onto his shoulder. "Listen guys. I think I might really go to the library. There're some books I need to get out for that Charms essay."

"Alright," James said, not looking particularly convinced. "Just don't go back too early. Or work too hard either. You know the full moon's on Thursday."

"Like I could forget," Remus muttered as he left the kitchen.

The library was never very full on Sundays. The tables that lined the shelves and the walls were mostly empty – dotted with a few members of two very contrasting groups: Those who were unfailingly diligent and hard-working, even on weekends; and those that had left all their homework to Sunday evening and were now hurrying to catch up.

Remus collected the book he wanted from the Charms section and then retreated to the back of the library where all the desks were empty, and went down on his hands and knees to crawl under one of the empty tables. It was a stupid, childish habit, one that he had been sure he'd cured himself of now that he was almost sixteen, but right now he was worried and tired, and he couldn't resist the lure of the protective hollow beneath the table. It smelled of dust, stone and old, warped wood, and when he closed his eyes a picture of his mother rose in his mind – one that he'd almost forgotten. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor of her potions lab, her back against her largest cast-iron cauldron. Her elbow rested on her knee, and her hand cupped her chin as she frowned down at the book in front of her in concentration. Her long, tawny hair tumbled forward over her dark eyes, and suddenly she looked up and spotted Remus. She smiled.

That was where the memory ended, but it created a comforting warmth in Remus's chest, and he felt himself relax a little as a small smile broke out on his face. He was so caught up in the memory that he didn't sense anyone approaching and jumped in shock when the chair blocking his presence from view was suddenly pulled back and someone flung themselves into it. Before Remus could react, or gather his jumbled senses enough to identify the scent, the feet had moved forward and jabbed him roughly in the side.

Someone swore in surprise, and a face appeared beneath the edge of the table. It was a pale, hook-nosed face framed by limp, greasy hair. As soon as Snape saw who it was, he let out a yelp of horror and stood up, stumbling back from the chair and almost falling over his own legs in the process.

"What the hell are you doing under there, you flea-bitten creature!" he snarled, backing up another step in spite of his strong words. "I thought they had a rule against animals in the library."

_He's afraid_, Remus told himself firmly, even though Snape's words cut through him, changing, in his mind, to reform into the bitter tones of his father. _And he has every right to be. You almost killed him. _

"Sorry," Remus murmured. He crawled out from under the table and clutched his book bag to his chest. He backed away as well. "I'll j-just go."

"Do you fantasise about it?" Snape asked abruptly, a sneer in his voice that belied his slightly trembling hands. His hands were large and long-fingered, reminding Remus of albino spiders twisting together against the dark background of his robes.

Remus hesitated. He longed to turn and leave, but he felt that he owed Snape something – _everything _– in apology for what he'd put him through. He remembered James briefly mentioning that the Slytherin had wet himself in fear. Even _James _hadn't put any mockery in his voice at the revelation. Remus wondered if it was because he'd been close to doing the same himself.

"About what?" Remus asked softly, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"About what it would have been like to tear me apart," Snape said. His voice was harsh and dark. "About what it would have felt like to have my blood on your claws and your teeth. I know you and your friends hate me. I'm not as gullible as Dumbledore. I know you planned that."

Remus's breath hitched and he clutched his bag closer. "N-no, Snape. Sirius was…Sirius made a mistake. It was all a m-m-mistake. And I'm sorry. I'm _sorry _for everything that h-happened to you."

"_Sorry_?" Snape sounded like he wanted to vomit at the taste of the word in his mouth. "You think I'll forgive you just because you stand there looking stupid and pathetic and stuttering like a freak. I _know _what you are, and unlike Black, it doesn't turn me on. It _disgusts_ me and if I had my way I'd tell everyone what you are and see you expelled."

In spite of his best intentions, Remus felt anger flood through him. "Leave Sirius out of this!"

Snape laughed, high and nasal. "Black doesn't need help from me to degrade himself," he said. He looked Remus over, his black eyes full of loathing. "He does it all by himself. Consorting with Gryffindors, betraying his family, indulging his filthy desires for bestiality."

At that, Remus really did stumble. His book bag fell from his arms with a clatter, the books spilling out. He gaped at Snape, his mind refusing to register the words the boy had used. "W-w-what did you say?"

Snape looked delighted at Remus's reaction and he took a few steps closer. "You heard what I said. What else would you call it? Having perverted sexual relations with a dark creature – something that's not even human, let alone female. It's filthy and disgusting."

"_Severus!_"

Remus was so far gone, he didn't even register Lily's voice. He seized Snape by the front of his robes and used his preternatural strength to shove the boy roughly back against one of the tables. Moony rose and howled in his mind as Remus bent over Snape, pressing him so forcefully into the table the other boy's ribs threatened to crack. His anger was hot and fierce and feral. A low, steady growl rumbled deep in his chest.

"Remus! Let go, you're hurting him! _Let go_!" There were smaller hands covering his own. Sharp, feminine nails dug into them trying to force him to release his grip. "Remus, please. He's afraid! Let him go, please. For me. You know me – it's Lily, Remus. Let go."

And then Remus smelled it – the sharp, coppery, metallic scent of fear. Dirty orange in colour and filling his senses. Moony rejoiced in it, but his human-self rebelled. He was suddenly aware of the way Snape's heart fluttered and trembled weakly against his clenched fists like a dying bird.

He jerked away from Snape, his breath coming out in harsh gasps from his mouth. "Stay away, stay away," he murmured allowed to Moony, who protested in his head at the loss of prey.

Remus dropped down to his haunches and closed his eyes, fighting against the wolf and shaking violently.

"Remus? Remus?" It took a while for the voice to get through to him. Then he was aware of the small hand on his arm, a blur of red in front of his face. It resolved itself into Lily's red hair and worried face. Her bright green eyes watched him with worry and compassion. "It's okay," she said. "He's okay. He just ran away."

"It's not okay," he whispered. "You don't know what I…you don't know."

"But I do," she said, reaching forward to sweep a strand of tawny hair away from his face. "I know what you are. I've known for ages. You accidentally let slip to me that your mother was dead once, so I knew you excuses about going to see her were false. And then I watched and researched and I realised what you are."

Remus flinched back from her, waiting for the hex or the blows or the harsh words.

"I don't mind, Remus," she said. Her hand moved through his hair again, and the canine in him leant into the caress. "You had every right to attack Severus. What he said to you was unforgivable. You're just as much a human being as I am. Don't take anything he said seriously. You and Black are perfect together. You belong."

Remus felt sick when he thought of Snape's words. He thought his father, and how he had always called him an animal. He thought about the fact that only he had been able to walk through the doorway to the Black's cellar to rescue Sirius because he wasn't human. He was a dark creature.

"Don't you _dare_, Remus Lupin!" Lily said sharply.

He jerked his head up and stared at her in bemusement, his mind still fuzzy from the proximity of Moony in his head. "Don't what?"

"Don't you dare believe anything Severus said. He didn't mean it."

Remus looked at her with tired disbelief and she winced a little and shrugged. "Okay, maybe he did. But it's only because he is afraid. Listen, Remus. You can't take anything Severus says seriously. He is a frightened, bitter, jaded boy. He's seen the worst of life - just like you have – and it's changed him in ways that only he, and maybe you, could understand. But unlike you, he didn't come to school to find a sanctuary and a home. He found a cold pit of snakes instead, and is bullied constantly by everyone. Black and Pettigrew, and, much as I hate to admit it, Potter, have been good for you. They've become your life and your family, and your reason for going on. Remember, Remus, that Severus never had that. Don't throw it all away because of what he said."

Remus pressed his lips together and tried to shove down the angry pity that rose in him at Lily's words. He pulled away from her and scrambled to his feet, scrabbling around for his books and stuffing them back into his bag.

"Remus? Where are you going?" Lily helped him gather his books together, her forehead creased with worry.

"Up to my dorm. Sirius is there."

"You made up then?" Lily looked unutterably relieved for someone who professed homicidal hatred for the Black heir.

Remus nodded jerkily.

"Good for you, then. I won't ask what happened, because I can already guess is has to do with Black and Severus and your…er…"

"Furry little problem?" Remus supplied, a small smile trying to alight on his face and only just succeeding.

Lily raised an elegant auburn eyebrow, her lips twitching in amusement. "Is that what you like to call it?"

"James made it up. It sort of stuck. His Dad thought for ages that I owned a badly behaved rabbit."

This time Lily actually laughed. "Yes, well," she sobered. "I won't ask, because I know it's private and should remain between you, but just know that I'm happy you made up. And come and talk to me if you need to. I'm always glad to listen and help."

Remus nodded, slipped past her, out the library, and made his way up to the Gryffindor tower. He knew it was too early and they were supposed to be leaving Sirius on his own for a while, but Remus really needed to see him now. He needed to confirm for himself that what he had with Sirius was good and right and not something wicked and perverted.

Padfoot was lying on his bed where Remus had left him, and when Remus entered the room, his ears pricked up, and his plumed tail waved in greeting. Remus felt sick when he thought of Snape's words. Sirius had done this for him – changed for him. Was he gross and perverted? Was taking that love and offering his own in return wrong?

_Indulging his filthy desires for bestiality…_

Remus couldn't look at Sirius. He turned and flung himself onto Sirius's bed instead, hearing Padfoot utter a worried, questioning whine, and then felt the bed shudder and dip as the grim-like dog launched himself onto it. A furry muzzle tipped with a cold, wet nose pressed to the back of his neck, and Remus could smell the hurt and worry that accompanied the gesture.

"Stop it!" He felt angry that his heart and his body conspired against his mind and made him want to fling his arms around Padfoot's neck and cry. Instead, he rolled over and shoved Sirius hard so he slipped backwards off the bed with a thud. "Can't you take a hint? I don't _want _you here!" It was a lie – or half a lie. He wanted Sirius and he didn't. He wanted love, but he wanted to not be a freak or dirty or wrong.

Then he saw Padfoot's face which was a picture of canine hurt and confusion. Ears down, tail tucked between his legs, head dipped. His heart twisted up in his chest. "Oh, I'm s-sorry, Padfoot," he whispered, his voice hoarse and shaking. "It's not your fault. It's just – something s-s-someone said to me. It made me think…"

But he couldn't say any more because he thought of Snape and how he smelled of fear and how his heart had fluttered like a dying bird. He thought of how Snape didn't have any Marauders watch out for him. And it was all his fault that Snape was afraid, and he's had every right to lash out at Remus. He was right – Remus _was _a dark creature, and it _was _gross…

Suddenly Padfoot's formed blurred in front of him, and for a moment, Remus thought he must be crying and blinded by tears, but then the form stretched and thinned and staggered a little at it became a two-legged blur rather than a four-legged blur. The two-legged blur launched itself at Remus.

Remus felt himself being scooped up into a warm embrace, and a hand ran up and down his back, while another one prized his fingers away from his face where they had been gouging at his own skin without him even realising it

"It's okay," Sirius was murmuring. "It's okay."

Remus struggled against him. This was _wrong_, it was _wrong. _ But it also wasn't, because it felt good and it made him happy, and it made Sirius happy, so it _couldn't _wrong, even thought he knew it was. He gave up his struggles and sagged against Sirius's warm chest, breathing in that wonderful, familiar smell that he hadn't had access to for so long. He pressed his face into the other boy's shoulder. "It's n-not okay. It's _not_!"

"Tell me what happened. Tell me who upset you," Sirius begged.

But Remus couldn't because of Snape and his bitterness and his frightened-bird heart. He shook his head and wound his arms around Sirius's gaunt waist. It really was like hugging a xylophone. Sirius was a mass of walking angles and hard edges. He was knobbly and sunken and wonderful just the same. "Thank you for changing back," Remus said. "Thank you, thank you…"

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When Remus awoke the next day, it was to find himself still curled up in Sirius's protective embrace. In the bland light of the early November morning sunshine, he felt horribly embarrassed about his overreaction the night before. Had he been feeling himself, he was sure, and not stressed over the worry about Sirius's canine state, or the guilt over Snape's situation, or the pull of the moon that was in four days, he wouldn't have taken Snape's words nearly as seriously as he did. He could only be glad that he hadn't revealed Snape's name in a moment of weakness.

He knew his friends suspected the truth, but without proof, they didn't dare anger Remus further attacking the Slytherin who had already suffered so much from their misguided pranks.

Even as he thought this, he knew he was partly kidding himself. The effect of Snape's words wasn't strong and sharply painful as they had been the night before, but they were lurking there in his subconscious mind like a dull ache. Like an under-the-skin spot, Remus thought, that you couldn't stop from poking to check if it still hurt. And it lingers there for ages looking dull red, and you just know it's going to grow and erupt and burst at a time that you really want to look your best, and not like you've got an exploding crater-boil on your nose. Remus screwed up his face in disgust.

He was shaken from his thoughts by Sirius shifting against him, and he tried to pretend he didn't feel something hard against his lower back.

"Alrigh' Moony-bamboony?" Sirius said, the words interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah," Remus said. "Sorry about last night. I know it was stupid."

He rolled over onto his back and smiled at Sirius, whose face lit with a grin in return. "Rubbish! It's what I'm here for. We'd better get a move on, though. School day, remember?"

Remus groaned and forced himself out of bed for a shower. Afterwards, as he was brushing his teeth in front of the mirror, he caught sight of his own eyes which looked every-so-slightly more golden than usual due to the approaching full moon. Animal eyes. His stomach clenched.

"I hate under-the-skin spots," he muttered to himself.

"Under-the-skin spots?" Peter moved up to the basin beside him, holding his toothbrush. "I _like _under-the-skin spots. They're a million times better than over-the-skin spots." He started brushing his teeth.

Although James, Sirius and Remus had their fair share of teenage-spot outbreaks, poor Peter had the raw deal. He was prone to regular outbursts that spread like a mountain-range, usually across his forehead. He'd grown his sandy hair into a floppy fringe to cover the evidence.

"You should go and ask Madame Pomfrey for some bubotuber potion," Remus suggested.

"She only gives it to the worst cases," Peter said glumly, spitting into the basin. "She says that otherwise it gets ridiculous in a school full of teenagers. She gave it to that Hufflepuff, Martha Ogborn – you know, the one who used that really strong scourgify on her face to try and get rid of them and ended up taking of three layers of skin?"

Remus shuddered. "That's just wrong."

"Yeah, well." Peter shrugged. "I might be reduced to that. It's okay for you guys, but if I ever want to ask out Doreen, I want to look nice."

"If you feel that bad about it, I'm sure we can nick some for you from the hospital wing. Or brew some of our own."

Peter smiled gratefully.

"Nick some what?" Sirius asked, coming up and cheerfully shoving Peter out of the way with the aid of his elbows and hip.

"Bubotuber potion," Peter told him, shoving back. Remus made a quick retreat to the dorm to avoid the flying toothpaste foam.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

_Dear Remus,_

_We haven't heard from you for ages! How are you doing? I hope everything is going well, and that you boys are behaving yourselves. Neil said that he thinks you know some secret passages into Hogsmeade, and I beg you not to use them. I don't know if you've seen the papers recently, but Voldemort is on the rise again, and there's a rumour going round that he's trying to recruit older Hogwarts students. _

_You'll be glad to hear that we have some good news as well. Neil got a promotion at work, and now he works with the same Auror team as Mr Potter. Isn't that wonderful? I am a bit worried about the fact that they are given the more difficult and dangerous raids, but Neil assures me that he will be fine. I have included some extra pocket money for you so you can buy a celebration treat for yourself. _

_Write and tell me how things are going. _

_All my love,_

_Angela (and Neil)_


	59. Welcome To My Hell

SIRIUS:

**Disclaimer: The Marauders' world belongs to JK Rowling and those film-making blokes. **

**Sorry it's taken a while to update, but I have been suffering through end-of-the-academic-year deadlines. Not fun. Still, they're over now, so I'll try and update a bit for regularly. **

**As ever, please leave me a review. It's what keeps me typing. :D**

**Moonsign x**

**SIRIUS:**

"I just don't get it!" James complained, flinging himself down on his bed, and rubbing his newly de-antlered head. "Explain it to me again, Padfoot. We only have two days until the next full moon, and I'm absolutely _determined _to be able to do it by then."

Sirius groaned and rubbed the spot between his eyebrows. They had been at this for four hours now. Add that to the six hours they worked on it yesterday, and he knew that if he wasn't doing this for Remus, he would have given up long before.

"I've told you a million times," he said. "It's all about determination. It's not down to how you pronounce a spell, or exactly how you swish and flick your wand. This is _wandless _magic. It's…primal. And internal. You have to _want_ to change more than you want anything. You have to let your magic fill you up, so it feels like you're going to burn up with the heat of it. You…you have to not care that you might die."

Peter crossed his legs and put his chin in his hands. "It just sounds really painful," he said. "I _try _to want to change, but I hate being in pain."

"It only hurts the first time," Sirius said. He grinned and winked at the chubby Marauder. "Like sex. You have to get through the painful first time, but all the other times make it worth it." He sobered. "Think how bad it is for Moony. For him it hurts _every _time. He feels his bones breaking and his skin stretching and his organs twisting. And he doesn't have a choice. We're doing this for him, lads. This is something that could really change his life."

"I _am _trying," said James. "I just get as far as the antlers and fur down my back and then I hit a wall. You've told us all that a million times. What did _you _do that we're _not _doing?"

"I told you, I…" Sirius stopped. He was just repeating himself. There had to be some way to put his point across to the other two. Soon. He was so tired of being stuck up here in the dorm, he would even have considered being in the library an improvement. Especially since Remus was there. He bit his lip as he thought of another to explain himself. "I felt as thought I had nothing to lose," he said eventually. He was aware that his voice was more of a mumble than a calm statement. "I thought that you all hated me and I had nothing to lose anymore. I just let my magic take over and do what it wanted. I was…I was trying to burn away the Blackness."

"Blackness?" James questioned, his voice gentle in the way that only the other Marauders knew was possible. He was obviously aware that they were moving onto private, painful ground with this conversation.

"You know," Sirius waved his hand vaguely towards his own chest. "What makes me a Black. What made me betray Remus. I wanted it gone. I wanted to burn it away." He couldn't quite meet their eyes.

"That was really dangerous, mate," Peter said quietly. "Letting your magic go like that. People have _died _doing that."

Sirius dipped his head a little more. "I know. And I think if the animagus potion hadn't created a natural channel for it to go down, I would have. I didn't really care at that point. But that's how much you've got to want it."

There was a long silence in the room, and Sirius wondered if he'd said too much. Remus understood. Remus knew what it was like to feel desperate enough that death looks like a relief, rather than something to fear. These two were out of their depth and struggling to understand.

"I don't know if we can do it," James said eventually, nodding at Peter. Sirius knew it took a lot for James to admit defeat, and felt his heart sink. "This is why there are hardly any animagi around. You have to really _not care_ what happens to you. How many people can do that? _Really_ do that, I mean?"

Sirius shook his head, feeling miserable. He knew that Remus would never allow him to accompany the wolf alone. If the others couldn't change, everything would have been for nothing.

The door opened, and Remus came in, his arms full of parchment and books from working in the library with Lily. Over the last few days, since Lily had admitted to knowing Remus's secret, the two of them seemed to have become much closer. If Sirius hadn't known how much Remus cared for him, he would have been jealous. The tawny-haired boy dumped his stuff on the bed and glanced up at his friends.

"Anything yet?" he asked hopefully. Sirius hated the thought of crushing that hope. Remus so rarely allowed himself to dream of something that might make his life easier, but after Sirius's transformation, he had let himself believe it might be possible.

"Not yet," Sirius said, and tried to swallow around the bruised feeling in his throat at the quiet resignation in Remus's eyes that was slowly beginning to replace the hope. If only he could make the others _long _to help Remus as much as he did. If only he could make them _see _just how bad it was so that they would willingly give up everything to help him. If only they could _see_…

Sirius jerked his head up so suddenly he almost gave himself whiplash. "I've got it!"

He leapt off his bed, tripped over his scarlet bed-curtains and skidded over to his trunk. He rummaged round in it, yanking out clothes, books, parchment and other detritus until he reached what he had been looking for, wrapped in a green velvet bag at the bottom corner of his trunk. He pulled it out and tipped the object out of the bag and into his hand. It was just a bit bigger than a wine goblet, but roughly the same shape. It was carved out of black Egyptian alabaster, and riddled with dozens of tiny, intricate runes around the rim and sides.

James made a face. "That's the ugliest looking goblet I've ever seen."

"My Uncle Alphard gave it to me last Christmas," Sirius told them. "I've never used it. I didn't even want to keep it, to be honest, because it's a Black family heirloom." He turned it upside-down to show them the Black family crest carved into the bottom. "But Uncle Alphard has always been cool to me, so I did. It's similar to a pensieve – called an occusieve. Only it doesn't allow you to store memories in the same way. It makes a copy of a single memory, and allows you to view it. You can only view the copy once before it disappears. The actual memory remains in your head, and if you want to see it again, you have to make a new copy. It's sometimes used in court cases for witnesses."

James leaned forward and took the occusieve from Sirius's hands and turned it over in his own. "It's cool, but how's it going to help us? Are you going to show us a memory of you changing? Because you've changed in front of us loads of times and it hasn't helped."

Sirius shook his head. "No. I thought you could see a memory of _Moony _changing."

"What!" Remus yelped and shook his head violently. "Oh no. No, no, no. I'm never letting _any _of you see that. Even if you all manage to become animagi, you're standing outside the room while I change. It's gross and bloody and disgusting. I'm _never _letting any of you see me like that."

"But don't you see!" Sirius reached out and caught Remus's flailing hands, tugging the werewolf down onto the bed beside him and staring at him pleadingly. "They need to _see _it to want to change that much. If you really want them to change, this is the only thing left to do." Sirius closed his eyes and bowed his head so it rested on Remus's shoulder. "The truth is, Rem, I don't think they can ever do it without that kind of incentive. I wouldn't ask this of you otherwise."

He could _feel _the tension humming in Remus's shoulders, and felt the way the other boy's slim hands tightened painfully around his own. He lifted his head to see the mass of conflicting emotion on Remus's face.

"I-it's gross," Remus whispered. "It's gross and disturbing and dark and horrible. If you all see it, you'll not want to be near me anymore."

"That's _not _true!" Surprisingly, it was Peter who spoke. He was usually the quietest Marauder, and rarely spoke up first, particularly in situations as serious as this. Sirius felt an strong rush of affection and gratefulness towards him. "We would _never _not want to be your friend, Moony," Peter continued. "Not even if you made us sit and watch you peeling off your own skin."

"That's exactly what it will be like!" Remus said, his voice cracking with distress. "That's exactly how graphic and bloody it's going to be."

"I really do think this is the only way it's ever going to work, babe," Sirius murmured. He pulled Remus against him and allowed the tawny head to press into the curve of his neck. "It's the only thing left I can think of."

Remus remained still against Sirius for a long time, tiny tremors of tension running up and down his spine. Sirius could feel them against his own body. The others didn't speak, knowing this was a decision that Remus had to make on his own. After a long while, Remus pulled slowly away and took out his wand. His face – already pale with the approaching moon – looked positively gaunt and lined, but the hand he raised to pull his wand out of his pocket was steady. For the first time Sirius thought 'young man' rather than 'boy' as he looked at him. It was daunting. When had they all started growing up?

"All right," Remus said, his voice tired and grim. "What do I do?"

It was a mark of how desperate he was that he did not put up any more of a fight.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"You sure you're not going to come, Moony?" James asked, as he, Sirius and Peter crowded round the shimmering silver memory in the occusieve. It looked a little different to pensieve memories; less solid and more smoky.

Remus shook his head, perched on the edge of Sirius's bed with his hands clasped so tightly Sirius worried that the sharp points of his knuckles would break through his skin. "N-no. I live through that enough already, thanks."

"Right, you two," James said, turning back, his face tense. "Wands at the ready. On the count of three. One…two…_three_!"

Sirius reached out and touched his wand to the pearly surface of the memory and felt himself being sucked in. His stomach lurched and his brain swam. He shut his eyes and waited for the sensation of movement to stop. Then he slowly opened them again.

He was standing in the bedroom of the Shrieking Shack. He was surrounded by the familiar battered wood-grey walls, the clawed and splattered rickety furniture, the tatty, sagging bed. The only thing that was missing was the smell. He was used to the sharp, metallic scent of blood, fear and wolf that usually pervaded the room. He had forgotten that occusieve memories were only visual and auditory.

Lying curled in the centre of the bed was Remus. He had been alone, so he hadn't bothered to cover his nakedness, though he was shivering in the cold November air. Although he wasn't as thin as Sirius currently was, there was no spare fat on him anywhere. His elbows, knees, ankles and wrists were pointed and pressed against his scarred skin from the inside. He was curled in on himself, his skinny arms wrapped around his legs, and Sirius could see every one of the knobbly vertebrae of his curved spine. The whipcord tendons and muscles that wrapped his slim body were all tensed and vibrating with the coming moon.

"This was moon before last, wasn't it?" James whispered, though the memory-Remus would not have been able to hear. His voice was subdued and nervous.

"Yeah," Sirius answered. He carefully approached the bed, reaching out to touch Remus's shoulder, when the smaller boy's whole body suddenly rocked with a violent spasm. Sirius jumped back as Remus curled tighter, and glanced towards the window. The moon was rising.

Another spasm shook Remus's body, and he suddenly uncurled as quickly and violently as a spring, and snapped out flat onto his back. His face was contorted with pain, but he pressed his lips tightly together, and his fists clenched. A single shaft of moonlight speared through the window and as it touched Remus's body, he lost the war against the scream and it ripped from his throat.

Sirius stumbled back again, almost bashing into James, who was standing behind him with Peter, both their eyes fixed on the scene unfolding in front of them.

Remus's scream seemed to fill the room, sucking up all other sound. It was raw and agonised, and went on and on, as though Remus didn't need to stop for breath. His spine bowed up in a sharp arch so only his shoulders and hips touched the bed and the scream became shriller. Suddenly, there was a sharp popping sound and Sirius let out a shriek of his own as he saw Remus's wrist crack and break, melding further into his forearm, his hand elongating, his fingers melting back into his expanding palm. His skin stretched tight and in some places tore open as it reached the limit of its elasticity.

There were more cracks and popping sounds as Remus's shoulders and hips dislocated, his spine lengthened to accommodate a tail, his knees and ankles repositioned themselves. All the while he screamed and screamed, the sound wet, as though the fragile skin of his throat tore at the roughness of the noise, and bled into his mouth – that mouth that now stretched open further and further until there were sharp snapping pops as it lengthened, and blood trickled down the newly-forming muzzle as sharper, bigger teeth cut through the blackening gums.

Sirius reached out blindly, wanting to stop the process, wanting to do anything to anything to stop the pain, but his hands passed through the writhing body on the bed, whose skin was twitching and shivering as sharp pinpricks of fur sprouted all over Remus's wolf-like body.

Sirius was choking, shouting, sobbing, too frightened and horrified to feel embarrassed or ashamed. His mouth was filled with saliva as he fought down the urge to retch, a battle that either Peter or James behind him seemed to have lost if the distant noises were any indication.

It was the longest and most painful thing Sirius had ever lived through. It seemed like years rather than minutes before the screams turned to howls, and then shuddered away as a wolf lay panting and whimpering with pain on the bed. In any other circumstances, Sirius would have called him a beautiful animal. Moony was covered with thick, tawny-coloured fur, his jaw powerful, his tufted tail plumed.

Sirius stumbled back as the wolf suddenly raised his head and sniffed the air, his muscles tense and vibrating. He nose pressed to the mattress, then in a graceful bound, leapt off the bed and followed the scent to the door and around the room. It was smelling Remus's human self, Sirius thought, and as Moony became more agitated and frantic, he realised that the scent was driving him crazy with bloodlust.

The canine within Sirius recognised the meaning of the growls and whines as Moony began to shred and rip the furniture in fury and frustration. _Want, blood, man, hungry, Moony eat, want, want blood, bloodbloodblood hot, hungry bloodbloodblood…_

And that was when he started tearing at himself. Sirius watched in horror as the claws and teeth ripped at Moony's own flesh, only the thick fur preventing every one of the tears becoming a fatal wound. The wolf lapped hungrily at the blood, whimpering in pain and hunger, and the frustration of this prison.

"Stop it, Moony!" Sirius screamed at him, knowing he couldn't hear him. "Please! Stop! Stop! _Stop!_" His hands passed ineffectively through the gnawing jaws and pooling blood. "_Please stop!_"

He was only dimly aware of James and Peter screaming, too, and of a hand gripping his arm, trying to pull him away. There was a blur of sensation, and suddenly he was standing in sunlight again, and the wood-and-boy-and-socks smell of the dormitory. Sirius looked up blindly through streaming eyes to see Remus's gaunt, fear-filled face staring at him.

He launched himself at the bed, scooped the shocked boy up into his arms and began planting wet, teary kisses all over his neck and cheeks and hair. He wanted to say; "I will _never_ let that happen again. I will _never _let you be alone again. Not ever. I don't care what I have to do. I love you and you will _never _suffer to that extent again." All he actually managed to do was repeat the words _"Never, never, never, never…" _over and over again.

"Sirius! _Sirius!_"

Someone jerked his head back by his hair, and Sirius looked up into the blurry, upside-down face of James, which he was glad to see was as tear-stained as his own. "Let Moony breathe, mate."

Sirius glanced down to see Remus wide-eyed and gasping in his arms, prevented from breathing by Sirius's death-grip around his chest. "Sorry, Rem! Sorry, sorry!" He loosened his grip, and Remus managed the smallest smile, before curling forwards against Sirius's chest and pressing his face into his neck.

"I thought you would be grossed out," he mumbled.

"_Not _grossed out," James said, pressing a hand to Remus's back.

"Not ever," Peter said, coming over and touching Remus's shoulder as well. His chubby hand was shaking with shock, and it was the first time Sirius had ever seen someone who really _did _look grey-faced. There was the sharp scent of vomit on his breath.

"Moony," James said. "Moony watch this."

Sirius, Remus and Peter looked up as James backed away a bit and screwed up his face in concentration. They could feel the powerful magical build-up coming from him, growing and getting hotter and hotter. James's skin flushed and his eyes grew glassy. Antlers sprouted from his head and he stumbled a bit. Then his form seemed to blur, as though they were looked at him through distorted glass, and when it sharpened again, it was much, much larger, and four-legged.

"Prongs," Sirius breathed in awe, staring at his transformed friend. The stag that stood before them was truly impressive. His red-brown fur was smooth and fine, the shape of the powerful muscles clear beneath it. The antlers were branched and covered in soft velvet. Prongs's nose and the tip of his muzzle were heart-shaped black, and his hazel eyes were proud and protective. He looked completely out of place in the Marauders's messy dorm.

"You did it." Sirius glanced at Remus, who until now had had the only dry eyes in the room. Tears streamed down his cheeks in a mixture of relief, awe and – though being a teenage boy, he would never admit it – love.

"Look at me, too," Peter said, his round face set and uncharacteristically determined. The expression he then wore made him look chronically constipated. His fists clenched and unclenched, his shoulders hunched, every muscle in his body vibrated. It took a lot longer before his magic built up to a degree that nearly matched Prongs's. Sirius was almost beginning to wonder if it was ever going to happen before Peter's form also blurred and he actually began to _shrink _in front of their eyes.

Sirius wanted to yell, "You're _doing it_, Wormtail!" but restrained himself so he wouldn't break Peter's concentration. It was a _very _long and painful process, and Sirius felt himself becoming light-headed from holding his breath, but finally, the blur began to sharpen on a very, very small form that crouched on the floor in front of them.

Sirius got a brief glimpse of a sleek-furred, round-eared little brown rat, before it looked up, caught a glimpse of two giant humans and a stag hovering over it, and gave a squeak of instinctive terror and scuttled under the James's bed.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"You know," Peter said, "what with all the stuff we've had going on this year, we've hardly pulled any proper pranks at all. Everyone must think we're going soft."

It was later that evening, and the Marauders were lounging in front of the common room fire, armed with filched butterbeers and banoffee pie from the kitchens in celebration of their animagus success. They were all buzzing with suppressed energy – unable to celebrate properly because of how illegal their new skills were, but still unable to keep the rather ridiculous grins off their faces. Sirius wondered if they looked as drunk on success as he felt. Even Remus was laughing, and usually this close to the full moon, he was moody and miserable.

"We should plan a big one for Christmas," James suggested. "A whole school one. We haven't done one of those for ages. We can do it the day before everyone leaves or something."

"Is everyone leaving?" Remus asked, looking up from where he was lying on the hearthrug and polishing off his banoffee pie. "Are we all going home for Christmas?"

"I'm not," Sirius said immediately. "But James said I can go over to his for the holidays."

"My parents have moved into a new house this year," said Peter. He leaned forward in the armchair to snag another bottle of butterbeer. "They've been saving for ages, and finally had enough to buy a bigger place. They said you guys can come over for a week or something over the holidays if you like. Just know that all my dreadful Muggle cousins will be hanging round as well."

"Muggles?" Sirius sat up in excitement. Ever since their trip into Muggle London, Sirius had been fascinated by them. He still drooled longingly over the motorcycle magazines he had Peter buy him over the summer, and he listened to Remus's tape-player as often as Remus did himself. He didn't care how much his friends mocked him. It was amazing what the Muggles managed to do without magic.

"No pranking muggles, Padfoot," Remus said sternly. "It's unsporting if they can't fight back."

"You always think the worst of me, Moony. I wasn't planning on _pranking _them."

"Of course you weren't," said a sarcastic female voice. Sirius turned to see Lily standing behind the sofa he and James were sitting on, her arms crossed, and an exasperated expression on her face.

"Evans!" James ran a hand through his hair and grinned at her wolfishly. "Would you care for a date on the last Hogsmeade weekend before Christmas?"

"In your dreams, Potter. Or not, actually. That thought alone in too disturbing to sit comfortably in my head."

"I resent the fact that you and Moony would assume I would prank innocent muggles," Sirius interrupted, feeling indignant. He wasn't _that_ thoughtless.

"Oh, Sirius, I'm sorry," Remus said, obviously trying to look contrite rather than sceptical. "What can I ever do demonstrate how apologetic I'm feeling right now?"

Sirius cheered up at that thought. "You could be my slave for a day. And let me copy your Astronomy homework. I can't be bothered to work out the orbits of all Jupiter's moons on my own. Ooh! And you could buy me chocolate. Chocolate's always good."

"You're disgusting, Black," Lily said, looking down her nose at him. "I don't know what Remus sees in you. If you were my boyfriend I'd poison your morning pumpkin juice."

"If you were my girlfriend, I'd drink it."

"Hey!" Lily and James chorused together, glaring daggers at Sirius, who held up his hands in surrender.

"I'm just _saying…_"

"Did you want something, Lily?" Remus interrupted. "Aside from the pleasure of insulting my boyfriend, I mean?" He added the last part more quietly. Sirius was suddenly aware of the number of people in the common room who had turned to watch the interesting display of hexes that nearly always occurred when James and Lily were within a few feet of each other.

"I was just seeing if you were ready to head back to the library. We promised those fourth years we'd help them with the theory for the summoning charm."

"Rem!" Sirius scowled at Lily, annoyed that she was taking up so much of Remus's time, and even more annoyed that this, in turn, caused his voice to take on that horrible whiny tone. "You never said you were going to desert us in our hour of victory."

"Oh God, what have you done now?" Lily demanded, staring at Remus accusingly.

Sirius has expected Remus to deny everything, but instead, the werewolf lived up to his Marauder colours and treated Lily to a cheeky grin that made Sirius's hear skip a beat. "If we tell you, it'll ruin the surprise come Christmas."

"You lot are planning another one of your ridiculous Christmas pranks?" Lily asked incredulously. "Please tell me I'm wrong and you've outgrown that childishness."

"You're wrong and we've outgrown that childishness," all four of the Marauders parroted in dull monotones. Sirius and James had raised their right hands in solemn salutes.

Lily made a frustrated noise that could only be described as, "_ERRRORRRRGH!_" and pressed her closed fists to her temples. "Let's just go, Remus, before I commit Maraudercide." She turned and strode towards the portrait hole.

"Sorry," Remus said quietly to his friends, as he dragged himself to his feet, looking full-moon tired for the first time that evening. "But I'll have a look round for prank ideas while I'm there." He smiled at James and Peter, and reached out to ruffle Sirius's hair, his hand lingering just a bit longer than was normal – the only intimate contact he could safely get away with in the packed common room without giving them away.

"Later, Moony," Sirius murmured, as Remus headed out after Lily.

"Now that was some impressive sneakiness," James said in a rather awed voice once he was gone. "Did you see the way he used something he _knew _would make her mad to cover up the real reason for our little victory party? Classic."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Is Pomfrey gone, Wormtail?" James hissed, squinting through the darkness at the dark silhouette of the Womping Willow.

There was a rustling noise, a squeak, and then a little brown rat stood up on its hind legs in the long grass and nodded to the spot where Sirius and James were huddled under the invisibility cloak against the castle wall.

"Let's go then."

They hurried through the grass towards the Whomping Willow and stopped a few feet away from its flailing branches.

"Run as fast as you can and bang the knot with your nose," Sirius ordered Peter, nudging Wormtail with his toe. Rat's can't really pull off insulted expressions, but if they could, Peter would have been giving Sirius one at the indignity. He gave a huffy squeak, hesitated, then dashed towards the trunk of the tree, almost invisible against the grass. He was so little, the tree didn't even register his presence, and continued to sway, rather than pummel the tiny animal to the ground.

Wormtail hit the knot with his nose and the branches froze.

"Way to go, mate," James whispered, as he and Sirius hurried towards the entrance of the tunnel.

Peter changed back and grinned at them. "Piece of cake." He sobered. "But that was the easy part. I just hope this works."

"'Course it will. We're that Marauders," Sirius assured him, patting Peter on the back in an effort to rid him of his worried expression. "Come on now."

They hurried up the tunnel and emerged through the newly-repaired trapdoor and into the hall of the Shrieking Shack. They stared up the gloomy staircase, and Sirius felt his nose assaulted with the familiar smell of wood-rot, blood and wolf.

"Come on," James muttered, squaring his shoulders. "We're _not _backing out now."

He led the way up the staircase and into the bedroom at the top.

"Hey guys," Remus stood with his back to them staring out the window. He was completely naked, but didn't appear to be ashamed as he usually would. He didn't turn around as they entered, and Sirius tried to ignore the way his heart and stomach lurched with a mixture of fear and excitement. "Last chance to back out," Remus added. "The moon is rising."

"Never!" Sirius clenched his fists at his sides, setting his jaw with determination.

Remus' grin was vicious as he turned round to look at them. He no longer looked sweet-faced and scholarly. He looked utterly feral. His large eyes glowed golden and reflected the light, his teeth were just too sharp to be entirely human. His whole body hummed with animal-tension, the muscles and tendons twitching as they prepared to change. "Then welcome to my hell."

A shaft of moonlight slanted through the window and he flung back his head and screamed.


	60. The Mind of Moony

REMUS:

**Disclaimer: You know the drill by now. The Wizarding World is not mine.**

**Greetings to all my marvellous readers! **

**Once more unto the world of the Marauders, dear readers, once more, **

**and fill up this website with pranks and fun. **

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**Press the purple button and summon up the reviews, **

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…**I just couldn't resist. Yes, I know it doesn't scan… :P)**

**REMUS:**

Moony lay on his side, panting. As the moon rose higher, his pain started to fade, and his other senses became sharper. He was in _prison-cage-trap_ as he always was on nights like this. Always here, with moon pulling on his bones and smell of _man-blood-food_ lingering in the air.

But tonight there were new smells. Still hints of _man-blood-food,_ but there were also three different scents that almost overpowered it. There was something strange about them. They smelled a little like _man-blood-food_, but mostly like other warm, walking things that, some part of Moony's mind knew, came from the place outside _prison-cage-trap_ – that place where the moon was always tugging him to go.

Moony shook off the last remnants of the pain, his skin twitching, and deep-hurt in his new bones. He turned to look at the warm, walking things that were crowded against the wall. They looked at him with _fear-run-prey_ in their eyes and their scent, and Moony half wanted to chase them. But he didn't because there were other smells coming from them that became clearer as Moony took a step closer. They smelled _familiar_ and he didn't know why. There had never been other warm, walking things in here before.

Maybe it was to do with the other part of him – the part that lived in the back of his mind and whispered man-words in his head, and cried and hurt all the time like a not-wolf-thing. Strangely, the not-wolf-thing wasn't crying tonight. It was whispering in his head over and over again. And for once, it was not whispering man-words, but wolf-words. Or rather one wolf-word, over and over again. _"Pack, pack, pack, pack…"_

Moony was confused. He looked at the warm, walking things, where they huddled against the wall, and paced up and down in front of them in agitation. Two of them were big things. One was supple and woodsy. It smelled like it should be _run-prey-grass-eater_, but Moony knew it couldn't be, because it was standing quite happily next to the other big thing that definitely smelled more like a wolf.

"_Dog," _the voice in his mind supplied, briefly breaking off its chant of, _"Pack, pack, pack, pack"_.

The smallest thing was on the grass-eater's head, settled between the two tree-arms growing out from between its ears. It had a scent like the small, scuttling, squeaking_ ­_things that Moony sometimes smelled traces of in this _prison-cage-trap._

"_Pack. Moony pack. Pack." _the whisper in his head kept saying.

Moony continued to pace, shaking his head and eyeing the huddling things uncertainly. _"Pack?" _he repeated, eyeing the one called Dog. He could understand that this one might be pack, but the other two smelled too strange.

His words seemed to startle the dog-thing and it tossed its head and wagged its tail hopefully. _"Yes, pack!" _It said excitedly. _"Us Moony pack!" _It took a step forward and Moony tensed and growled. It froze and tilted its head. _"Us pack, Moony!"_

The strange this was, now that the word was in his head, it seemed right. Something in Moony was trembling with excitement, making his ears prick up and his muscles twitch, because these warm things _did _feel familiar. They _did _feel like pack.

"_Pack?" _Moony said again. This one smelled even more familiar than the other two. It smelled of _warm-wolf-closeness-want_. Moony's instincts knew that smell and his ears flicked forward in sudden eagerness. _"Mate?"_

The dog looked surprised, but it huffed an odd, playful noise and moved its head up and down. _"Yes - mate." _It took a step closer and Moony tensed again, but didn't growl. It took another step, invading Moony's personal space. He took a snap at its muzzle and it jerked its head away, and before Moony could react, it swiped his shoulder with its paw. Moony was still weak and shaky from _pain-hurt-moon-coming_, and felt himself bowled off his feet. Before he could scramble up again, there was a massive black paw resting on his ribcage and a low, rumbling growl above him that clearly stated _"Me big one. Me alpha."_

Moony knew he was stronger than this dog. He knew he could hurt it, and he took a snap at its lowered head. It jerked its head away and growled more fiercely. _"ME ALPHA!" _It put another paw on Moony's body and Moony felt his ribs bend and creak under the strain. He may have been stronger, but this dog was much bigger, and he knew if it leant forward there would be more _pain-hurt-ache_. Besides, he didn't want to make it feel _pain-hurt-ache_. It smelled _warm-mate-protect_, and even though Moony's ribs were straining and hurting under the weight of its upper body, it bent its head and huffed softly at his ear. _"Mate. Padfoot mate. My pack."_

"_Pack…mate…" _the voice in his head agreed._ "Submit. Padfoot Alpha."_

"_MOONY Alpha!" _Moony growled back indignantly, struggling a little against the hold on him.

"_No! PADFOOT Alpha!" _The voice was much clearer than it usually was and Moony was cross. This was _his _body.

Padfoot leaned forward and licked his nose, the gesture full of _care-protect-want. _Moony felt himself sag in defeat as his own body was flooded with answering emotions of _care-want-mine_. He tilted his head back in submission. Padfoot leant forward and opened his jaws over Moony's exposed throat, not breaking the skin, but just holding him there in a sign of dominance.

Then he stepped back, taking his weight off of Moony's body, and tilted his head to the side, watching Moony uncertainly as he lay, gasping for breath.

Moony slowly dragged himself to his feet, his ribs smarting. He shook himself gently, then moved towards Padfoot one careful step at a time. Padfoot stood still and allowed him to approach. Moony sniffed his nose, receiving a lick on his own for the trouble, then moved down Padfoot's side and sniffed behind him. He sneezed when Padfoot's plumed tail brushed his sensitive nose. _Pack-mate-mine._

A movement near the wall caught his attention. The other two walking things - "_Pack_," the voice reminded him - were watching him. The big one tossed its head with a look in its eye that Moony didn't know. It was almost like _playful-fun_, but quieter.

"_Prongs,"_ Padfoot said, looking towards the other two as well. _" Wormtail. Moony, Padfoot pack. Moony no hurt!"_

"_Moony no hurt," _Moony repeated, giving Padfoot a meek, sideways glance as his ribs twinged again.

The one Padfoot called Prongs stepped closer. It was slow and careful, but not afraid. Moony watched suspiciously as it came to a stop in front of him. It was also very big. Even bigger than Padfoot. It lowered its head to Moony and he sniffed it. Yes, there it was. The smell of pack. He knew this one was _care-protect-packmate_ as well, and he felt his tail wag in response. He licked its delicate nose playfully and it jerked its head back looking insulted. Moony yipped and lolled his tongue in a grin, pretending to snap with his teeth at one velvety ear.

The tiny one squeaked and clung on in alarm when Prongs's head moved out the way. Moony stretched his head up to huff in its scent. It trembled, but didn't run away. Yes, this one was pack, too, though why it was so small, Moony didn't know. Was it a runt? He was about to lick it, when there was a sharp nip on his hindquarters. He jerked around and snapped back at Padfoot, a flare of wolf-anger and familiar bloodlust rising in him.

"_No lick Wormtail," _Padfoot ordered. Then he dipped his front half down, his rump high, tail wagging. _"Play!"_

Moony hesitated, feeling the bloodlust fade a little under the playful, protective gaze of Padfoot. Slowly, uncertainly, he bowed down his own front half, his tail wagging a little. He had never had anyone to play with, and wasn't entirely sure what to do. Padfoot didn't seem to mind. He dashed forward and butted Moony's side, then skittered away again on big clumsy paws, barking at Moony to _chase-play-run. _There wasn't much room in here, but Moony obeyed with an excited yip, batting Padfoot over with a powerful sweep of his own paw, then running away to duck behind Prongs who whickered in amusement and lowered his tree-arms mock-threateningly at Padfoot. While Wormtail hung on, squeaking delightedly like a new-born cub.

It was wonderful. Moony was not _alone-hurt-bloodlust_ anymore. He was _pack-play-fun _instead. With his pack here, it not longer felt like _prison-trapped-cage_, but more like _den-sleep-place. _The only howling Moony did that night was in play. And he could feel his new pack with him the whole time, until the moment when _moon-gone-pain-hurt_ came and he forgot everything in a rush of agony and cracking bones.

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When Remus woke from his childlike state, it was early Friday evening. Usually, he found himself alone, or in the company Madame Pomfrey, and then made his way down to find the others in the common room after he'd dressed.

Today he woke to a room full of Marauders who, by the sound of it, were trying desperately hard to have a mini celebration party in whispers to avoid disturbing him. What resulted was a commotion that involved a lot of shushing, sniggering, elbowing, muffled "Ows!" and regular declarations of Marauderish genius.

Without opening his eyes, Remus tensed his muscles and shifted the tiniest amount, trying to discern his injuries. There was the bone-deep ache of the transformation itself, with the shallow wounds on the most vulnerable areas of knees, elbows and shoulders where the skin tended to tear under the pressure of too much stretching. There was also a throbbing, bruising ache on the right side of his ribcage, as though something big had sat on him.

For the first time since becoming a werewolf, Remus had a clear flash of full-moon memory that didn't involve a mouthful of blood, or a clawed paw raking at flesh. It was a brief, but vivid grey-and-white, scent-tinted image of a large black dog's head peering down at him, and a painful pressure on his ribcage. Oddly, the vision radiated surrender, comfort and belonging, rather that a desire to rip the dog's throat out.

For the first time in ten years, Remus realised, he had woken up after a full moon with only the aching pain of the change and the bruise on his chest. No deep gashes and bites, no claw-marks, no new scars…

_Well colour me grey and call me a flobber worm, _Remus thought in amazement. _They actually did it. _And what filled him then was such a rush of warm affection that his whole body shivered.

"Moony?"

Of course, Sirius had been keeping an eye on him, though Remus would have sworn he had been completely immersed in attempting to be quiet as he, James and Peter toasted their own brilliance with pumpkin juice. A hand touched his forehead and fingers dipped into his hair, gently disentangling the strands as they brushed through. He opened his eyes and looked up into matching pools of rain-cloud grey.

"Are you with us, or are you still Mini-Moony?"

Remus smiled, aware that it probably looked as sleepy and content as he felt. "I have the best mates _ever_," he murmured, aware that his throat – though still sore from his screaming during the transformation – was not nearly as torn-up as it usually was are a full night of growling and howling. "What did I ever do to deserve you guys?"

"I dunno," Sirius said. "It must have been something awesome though, for you to have got people as brilliant as us." He moved to sit on the bed, and guided Remus's head away from his pillow and into his lap, leaning down to drop a kiss onto his forehead, and ignoring the way James and Peter groaned and mimed shielding their poor eyes.

"You love it really," Remus told them, managing a teasing smile in their direction, in spite of Sirius's distracting fingers still running through his hair.

"I don't know what you mean," James grumbled. "If I was any more open-minded, my brain would fall out." But he smiled back to show that he was teasing. Sometimes Remus needed reminding, and his friends knew that.

"_I can see cleeeearly now my braaaain has gone!_" Sirius sang unhelpfully.

"How are you feeling, Rem?" Peter spoke loudly, obviously determined to override Sirius's singing. Sirius had many talents, and although he appreciated music, singing wasn't one of them. "You would have loved to see Madame Pomfrey's expression when she saw you this morning. She couldn't understand why she wasn't scraping you off the walls with a spatula like she usually does. We explained it away by saying you were happy because you'd made up with Sirius."

"I feel…the best I've felt for ten years. And it's all because of you three." Remus wished he could explain more clearly how much it meant to him, but he had never been good at freely expressing his emotions and his mind stumbled, groping for the right way to explain himself. Sirius, James and Peter grinned back at him – cocky, mischievous, boyish, affectionate - and he felt himself relax as he saw that he didn't need to find the words. They heard them anyway.

"Sorry about your ribs," Sirius said. "But I thought it would be better to have Padfoot dominant, 'cos it'll make controlling Moony easier if he gets crazy. There were a few times when we were playing when he got a bit violent."

"Sorry," Remus said, guilt welling up.

"Not a problem," James said firmly. "Nothing the mutt and I couldn't handle."

"You kept trying to lick me," Peter added. He looked fairly disgusted. "Do you know what it's like to be licked by a tongue that it almost the same size as you?"

Remus tried to look sorry, but couldn't help snickering.

"Moony kept wanting to go out," said James, picking up a chocolate frog off Remus's bed cover and unwrapping it. "He kept trying to herd us outside. We're thinking of letting him out next moon and into the forest. Sirius and I could keep you under control between us."

Remus's eyes widened in panic. "No! NO! Don't you _dare_! Do you know what would _happen _if I attacked someone?"

"We wouldn't let you attack someone, Moony," Sirius assured him. "But let's argue about it later. There's chocolate to eat, and toasting to be done. This, gentlemen, was the first in a long line of adventures by Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. Led, of course, by me, who – being the Alpha – is obviously the most brilliant of all. We should come up with a suitable ceremony where you all have to bow down to my greatness at regular points during the day. And maybe there can be a song."

"Oh, Merlin, please not a song!" Peter begged. "Especially if you're going to sing it."

"I'll have you know, I have the voice of an undercover opera singer."

"Very undercover," Remus murmured, and Sirius scowled down at him.

"For that, Remus Lupin, I will write a song just for you. A song in four verses, about the legendary love of the great Messrs Moony and Padfoot. It will be disgustingly soppy, and you'll have to like it anyway, because I will have written it."

"You're a right pompous twerp, sometimes, Padfoot," James said, then let out an unmanly shriek and began choking when Sirius levitated a Bertie Bott's every flavour bean up his nose.

Remus tried not to notice the wickedly inventive gleam that filled Sirius's eyes as he watched the bean explode back out of James's nose and ping off the stone basin in the corner of Remus's hospital room.

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He was right to have worried. Four days later, Remus made his way down to breakfast last of all his friends to discover Peter drinking a suspiciously lime-green coloured concoction through a straw as part of his usual breakfast.

"What's that, Pete?" Remus asked, dropping down into the seat between Sirius and Lily (who was looking like she rather regretted being seated close to the Marauders so early in the morning, and inched away with hand covering her plate defensively). He carefully spooned porridge from the silver bowl in front of him without touching the sides.

"S'Potion," Peter told him around the straw. "Bubotuber potion. To stop my spots. Sirius made it for me. He stole the ingredients from the hospital wing like he said he would."

Remus sat up in alarm, his morning doziness disappearing. "Don't drink it, Wormtail! That's not Bubotuber potion. It's green! It's supposed to be very pale yellow."

Peter stopped drinking and eyed the potion in alarm, before sending a horrified look at Sirius.

"Don't listen to Moony, mate," Sirius assured him. "This is the Padfoot version. Much more fun. It really works. Go on – feel for yourself."

Peter raised shaky hands to his face while James tried to muffle his laughter in his robe sleeve. The chubby Marauder pushed back his fringe and felt around on his forehead for the mountain-range of spots that he'd been complaining about for the last two weeks. Remus's own mouth dropped open when he realised that Peter's usually red and blemished skin was pale and smooth.

"How did you get it to work that fast?" he asked Sirius in amazement. "Bubotuber potion takes at least an hour or two to take hold."

Sirius shrugged, looking pleased and exchanging a smug look with James. "Prongs and I added some changes to the potion. This must be a positive side effect."

"_What_?" Lily butted in, looking horrified. "You can't just go around shoving random ingredients into potions, you idiots! You could _poison_ him!"

"They weren't _random_, my beautiful Evans," James assured her, sending her what he obviously considered to be a winning smile. "Sirius and I knew exactly what we wanted it to do. Aside from clearing up Pete's spots so he can ask out that Ravenclaw bint with the moustache, that is."

"She does _not _have a moustache!" Peter injected, his face warring between gratefulness at his spot-free appearance, apprehension about the changes Sirius and James had made to the potion, and indignation on behalf of his crush.

Remus groaned and tiredly picked up the cream jug to pour on his porridge. "It's okay, Lily," Remus told her. "They wouldn't hurt Pete. They know what they're doing with potions." He frowned at the two dark-haired Marauders. "What changes did you make? And why didn't you tell me?"

"One – because you're completely rubbish at potions," James told him.

"And two – because you would have stopped us," Sirius added.

"But what does it – ?"

Remus broke off when Peter's face grew alarmed and his hand flew up to touch his nose. "I thig I'b goig to sdeeze," he announced, because making a sound rather like _"Snorg-RuhHEEEW!"_

Remus had enough experience of James and Sirius's pranks to duck out the way as the boy opposite him sneezed violently. This was unfortunate for the Hufflepuff third year who was sitting at his table behind Remus, and therefore received the full brunt of the blast to the back of his head, which turned out to be an explosion of nine green jellybeans that fired out of Peter's nose with rather alarming force.

James and Sirius were howling with laughter as the Hufflepuff yelped with pain and swung round, only to receive the next volley of jellybeans to his face.

Laughter was growing up and down the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables as the next round of jellybeans ricocheted off the silver bacon plate and pinged back towards the windows behind Peter's and James's heads.

"What hab you _dode_ to be?" Peter demanded, between sneezes. People were shrieking in disgust as green jellybeans landed in their food and drink.

"Don't worry, mate," James said, patting his shoulder. "It'll wear off in a few minutes. And the spots are gone. Sirius is brilliant to have come up with this, isn't he?"

"You!" Peter choked at Sirius, and deliberately aimed his next sneeze at the helplessly laughing animagus, who failed to duck in time and was pelted with high-force jellybeans, one of which lodged in his right ear.

"Nice one, Wormtail!" James said, hammering Peter on the back and laughing even harder.

Remus couldn't help joining in as Sirius yelled in shock and tried to crawl under the table, attempting to lever the bean out of his ear at the same time. Even Peter was laughing now, also ducking down under the table to chase him along the corridor of people's legs, firing beans at Sirius retreating form as he crawled after him.

"Really, James," Remus said, trying to retain his reproving tone through his snickers. "That was cruel. Poor little Pete trusts you."

James widened his eyes innocently. "It was Sirius's idea," he said. "And it did everything we promised it would _and _more. It's a _Marauder _style spot-clearing potion."

"But…"

"Forget it, Remus," Lily interrupted, scowling at the grinning James. "You know better than to argue with an idiot. He'll drag you down to his level, and then beat you with experience."

"Aren't you in awe of our potion-brewing brilliance?" James asked her, his smile faltering a bit.

"It's not like you use it for anything productive!" she snapped at him. "You've caused complete mayhem at the breakfast table, and most of the food is now inedible with Pettigrew's nose-beans flying everywhere." Remus couldn't help noticing that the side of her mouth was twitching, as though she were trying desperately hard not to find the situation amusing and was failing.

"But it _was _brilliant?" James asked hopefully.

"Only in that – "

"_Mr. Black!_"

The laughter subsided as Professor McGonagall strode up the table, reached down to pull Sirius out from underneath by the collar of his robes and dragged him back to the Marauders' section of the table. She pointed furiously at Peter's half-drunk potion. "_What_, may I ask, is _that_?"

Sirius tried to look meek and innocent and failed dismally as he was still sniggering. "It's modified bubotuber potion," he told her.

"_Thirty _points from Gryffindor!" she said, "And detention with me for the rest of the week! How _dare _you test new potions on your classmates!"

"I tested it on myself first," Sirius assured her, and Remus was rather surprised at the care usually-rather-thoughtless Sirius showed for Peter. Sirius could have easily made the chubby boy his first test subject.

"That is no better!" Professor McGonagall snapped. "I expected better behaviour from you, Mr. Black!"

"Really?" Sirius looked intrigued. "Why?"

McGonagall stared at him for a few seconds, before shaking her head. "You know – I really don't know."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Well, you're welcome to try," Remus overheard Sirius saying, as he made his way up the stairs to the dorm in the last free period of that day. The door was jammed part-way open by the overflow of mess from the room. "But the day you get one over me, Wormtail, is the day I throw up my hands in defeat and take whatever punishment members of authority choose to dish out for me." Sirius added this last part in an irritatingly smug way, and Remus wondered whether he should offer to help Peter think up a prank just to prove Sirius wrong.

"You just wait," Peter voice said stubbornly. "I'll think of something."

Remus pushed the door open further and waded through the mess between the door and his bed. He tripped over one of Sirius's clunky black boots at the last moment, and sprawled forward onto his mattress, narrowly missing squashing Hamish who had been snoozing on his pillow. Hamish gave him a reproachful look and Remus picked him up to give him an apologetic cuddle. "This room looks worse than normal," he noted. "What's been going on here?"

"We decided we should clean out our trunks before the Christmas holidays," said a pile of dirty laundry, crumpled parchment and unwashed bed linen that had James's voice.

"Well, it smells rank." Remus tried not to inhale too deeply, and wondered if he would contract more germs by breathing through his nose or his mouth. "What _is _that disgusting stench?"

"We're calling it 'Prong's Pong'," Sirius told him, from where he was lying on his stomach on his bed, rummaging round in his trunk. "We found a graveyard of his dirty Quidditch socks behind the wardrobe. I'm trying to think of a way to make dung bombs that smell like that, because they would really be x-rated. I would watch my step under the window if I was you. Wormtail discovered the socks and puked over there."

Remus groaned. "Do you realise that werewolves have an extra-sensitive sense of smell?" he demanded. "I'm feeling all sick and light-headed right now. What did you eat for lunch, Pete? Because it smells like half-digested chicken curry."

"Wow," Peter said, looking at him with an awed expression. "You really _do _have an amazing sense of smell."

Remus made a disgusted noise and flung himself back on his mattress, placing Hamish on his stomach. The hedgehog huffed happily and curled up to sleep on Remus's belly. "And I had an idea for the Christmas Prank as well," Remus added. "I found a spell in the library, but I'm not going to tell you what it is until this room is tidy, and I can breathe properly again."

"Oh, Moony!" The pile-of-junk-with-James's-voice lurched in his direction pleadingly. "_Please_ tell us!"

"Please, Rem!" Peter added. "I still feel nauseous and I need cheering up."

"We promise to tidy if you tell us," Sirius said.

"No. Not until it's clean." Remus was quite proud of how strong-willed he was being. Take that Snape! No more Lapwolf-Lupin here. He closed his eyes smugly and ran his hand lightly over Hamish's spines which had been charmed fusia-pink and lime-green that morning by Sirius. "Poor Hamish," he said. "Those colours really don't go with your complexion."

"You're such a pouf, Moony," Peter told him, once more displaying his complete lack of tact in sensitive subjects. "Now tell us what your idea is!"

There was a soft doggy whimper and Remus's mattress dipped. Remus opened his eyes to see Padfoot inching onto his bed, a pitifully pleading expression on his face. _"Moony tell. Please, Moony."_

Remus scowled. "That's underhanded, you big mutt, and you know it."

Padfoot nudged Hamish off Remus's stomach and replaced him with his own head – complete with mournful puppy-dog eyes. Hamish gave and indignant snuffle and climbed back on again, trying to nudge off Padfoot's head with his own tiny nose. The little animal really _did _have no fear when it came to his own safety.

"Oh, _all right!_" Remus sighed, cursing his own weak will when it came to Sirius. He lifted Hamish back onto his pillow in case Padfoot's more canine urges took over – as they sometimes did when he wasn't concentrating – and sat up. He reached out to try and scoop as many of Padfoot's furry, sprawling limbs into his lap as possible and gave him an affectionate squeeze, burying his nose into his thick ruff. Because Sirius-the-human washed regularly, Padfoot always had that clean, soft, puppyish smell to his fur that Remus loved. Padfoot wuffled happily and licked Remus's cheek.

"Well?" James demanded, the top of his head emerging from the pile, his glasses crooked. "Tell us the plan, mastermind Moony."

Remus grinned, his inner marauder taking over. "Well, I was looking up those household charms that Professor Flitwick insisted on us learning – not that they would be a bad idea, looking at this room – and I found the best spell _ever._ I mean, we'd have to alter it a bit, because we'd want to do it on a much bigger scale, but it could be most marvellous prank we've ever done."

"Better than the ice prank?" Peter asked, as Padfoot wriggled expectantly and wuffed at Remus to hurry up. "And the Halloween pumpkin prank?"

"Well, it's a complicated charm that enables you to switch rooms upside-down. So, if , for example, we did it to this dorm, we could walk in the door and we'd be standing on the ceiling as if it were the floor and all the beds and mess and Prong's Pong-y sock-pile would be upside-down on the ceiling."

"You know, I'm sure there are a couple of Padfoot's socks in there as well," James said grumpily. The others ignored him.

"And then," Remus continued, "we alter a gravity charm on certain objects in the room – for example the pong-y sock pile – and while everyone is standing there in shock and wondering how the world got turned upside down, the pile of socks remembers which way gravity is supposed to go and falls on their heads, while the rest of the furniture and stuff stays up there."

Padfoot gave a delighted bark which almost deafened Remus and licked his nose. Remus shoved him off his lap in disgust. "Your tongue went right up my nostril!"

Padfoot looked unrepentant.

"We're gonna drop Prong's socks on the school?" Peter asked, looking bemused.

"No," Remus said patiently. "We're going to do the room-switchy charm on the great hall, and once everyone has come in for dinner, we do the altered gravity charm on all the food. One minute – shocked teachers and students staring at upside-down room, next minute – rain of food, and a delightfully Marauderish amount of mess.

"Moony, you _are _a genius!" Sirius exclaimed, after turning back with a pop. He launched himself back into Remus's lap, this time in human form, and licked his cheek again.

Remus wiped the slobber off absently, his mind still on the prank. "Of course, we wouldn't want anyone to get hurt, so we'd have to have some kind of charm that would cool down any hot food on the way down, and break up any big bits that might knock someone out."

"Like a roast chicken," James said.

"Or a big dumpling," Peter agreed. "A _really _big dumpling," he added, when the others looked at him oddly.

"Or sharp things like breadsticks," Sirius said. "We don't want anyone's eyes poked out by a breadstick. Except maybe Snivellus's."

"We'll get in _so _much trouble," James said, sounding delighted by the prospect.

"No," Remus said, rolling his eyes. "The idea is to not get caught."

"Like they'd think it was anyone else," Sirius scoffed.

"They have to be able to _prove _it," Remus pointed out.

"No, they don't," Peter said. "McGonagall with punish us anyway. You know that."

"True enough," said Remus, feeling resigned. "Is detention every day for a month worth an evening of mayhem?"

James, Sirius and Peter looked at him as though he were insane for even asking.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It was late at night, long after they had all gone to bed, and Remus was dying to tell someone about the alterations he had thought of for the plan. They kept floating round in his head and banging on the back of his eyeballs, refusing to allow him to sleep. The inner Marauder had lit a bonfire of inspiration in his head that radiated spell ideas and plans of attack, and was now dancing round it like a demon.

Eventually he gave up and slid out of bed, tiptoeing over to Sirius's bed and hoping that the other boy wouldn't be too angry about being woken up in the middle of the night for no good reason. Remus slid inside his closed bed-curtains and cast a quick silencing charm. Then he gently shook Sirius's shoulder.

Sirius huffed, flexed and dropped back to sleep, lying on his back in a sprawl of limbs that reminded Remus of the way that Padfoot would sprawl in front of him, begging for a belly-scratch. It was strange how doggish so many of Sirius's characteristics had become. It wasn't as pronounced at the wolfish side of Remus, of course – Padfoot would never be as inextricably linked to Sirius as Remus was to the wolf – but they were definitely there. It happened to James and Peter as well, to a certain extent, but in Sirius it was particularly pronounced. Remus wondered if those quirks had been there before and he just hadn't noticed. Perhaps that was why Sirius's animagus form was a dog in the first place. Or maybe it was because Sirius embraced his transformation so much more enthusiastically that the other two. James and Peter had been proud and enjoyed their animal-sides, but Sirius was utterly delighted. He took every opportunity to switch from dog to man, and appeared to adore getting his ears scratched or his head patted. Perhaps, Remus thought, it was a symptom of his loveless, touchless childhood.

Remus realised he had been standing beside Sirius with a rather dopey smile on his face for a long time, and was glad no one could see him. He lit his wand, then reached down to shake Sirius harder. This time Sirius groaned, stretched and sleepily opened his eyes. When he saw Remus hovering over him, he jerked awake.

"Moony? Is everything okay? Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine." Remus suddenly felt stupid for his impatient decision to wake Sirius up with his plans. "I just…I was…I thought…"

"C'mere, babe." Sirius lifted up the edge of the covers and Remus gratefully slid in beside him, lying on his side and facing Sirius. Sirius pulled him closer and wrapped himself around Remus, smelling warmly of sleepy-dog and boy. "Wassup?" He sounded half asleep again.

"I have a plan for the prank," Remus whispered. "I had to tell someone."

He waited for a burst of frustration or annoyance, but instead Sirius gave a sleepy chuckle and cuddled him closer, nuzzling into Remus's neck and covering it in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. "Only you would wake m'up in th'middle of th'night to tell me that," he mumbled. "You're so ador'bly eccentric I sometimes think m'heart might pop."

Remus wondered if Sirius would have admitted that if he hadn't been half asleep.

"You don't mind?" Remus whispered back, feeling fuzzy, sleepy arousal at Sirius's attentions to his neck, and warm body pressed close.

"Love it," Sirius murmured, his mouth stilling the kisses on Remus's neck, but not moving away. "Love how y'sit unner tables, love how y'always have your wand or y'quill behind your ear. Love how y'stutter when you're nervous or 'mbarrassed. Love how y'curl up and get really absorbed in y'book 'n you smile 'n look sad when something happens to the characters. Love your Marauderish sneakiness. Love your mischievous…vious…vousness." He lifted his head and kissed Remus's lips, then the tip of his nose. "Love your wolfishness. Love your laugh. Love ev'ything abou' you. I sometimes just wan' t'eat you up so much it hurts."

Remus had never felt this content, wrapped in Sirius's larger, skinny limbs, breathing in his scent, listening to his words and knowing they were for him. He couldn't help nuzzling up to Sirius's bony chest like a sleepy cub, curling up there and letting the older boy curl round him in turn. "Love you, too," he mumbled. "Tomorrow morning, I'll make up for waking you."

Sirius huffed a laugh into his hair. "Promises, promises."

Then they both relaxed into sleep. It was only as he was about to drop off that Remus realised he'd not got around to telling Sirius's his plans. It didn't seem to matter any more in any case.


	61. Operation Rain of Food

SIRIUS:

**Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter is still not mine…**

**Hi!**

**Sorry I haven't updated for so long! Family crises, but things have calmed down now. Hope this very cheerful chapter makes up for it!**

**As ever, love to all my readers and reviewers,**

**Moonsign x**

**SIRIUS:**

When Sirius woke up, he was horrified to find that his entire right side was paralysed from the neck down. Even odder, his body seem to find this arousing. He blinked his eyes open and stared up at the canopy of his bed.

The smell of sleep, warmth and boy was in the air, as well as a faint scent like dry autumn leaves and chocolate. Sirius smiled as he remembered the night before and shifted his head to glance down his body. The reason for his unexpected paralysis was immediately apparent. Remus was fast asleep, curled entirely around the right side of Sirius's body. His legs were looped around Sirius's right thigh, his arms were curled around Sirius's neck, and his torso was resting on the right side of Sirius's chest, head tucked neatly under his chin.

What made Sirius even more cheerful was the fact that even through his slight paralysis, he could feel the pressure of Remus's arousal against his hip. Sirius gave the werewolf an experimental poke, and Remus murmured, then curled up tighter in a rather Hamish-like manner.

"Moooooooony…" Sirius murmured, glad that he could still feel the tingle of Remus's silencing charm on the curtain from the night before. "Wakey, wakey, Moooooony..."

"Gnorfl," Remus mumbled, and snuffled into Sirius's chest.

"My right arm and leg are about to turn black and fall off, Moony," Sirius said in a singsong voice, wriggling a bit under Remus's weight. Remus's hips bucked a little and his eyes snapped open. Sirius was too surprised by his reaction to do more than stare at him stupidly.

"Padfoot?" Remus asked sleepily, tilting his head up to stare at Sirius from droopy amber eyes.

"I turned you on," Sirius told him smugly, wriggling his hip again, and feeling the automatic reaction from Remus again as his body responded.

Remus's eyes widened and he scrambled away, almost falling from the bed. "Oh, Merlin, Sirius, I'm sorry!"

"Sorry?" Sirius tugged Remus's resisting body back against him, flexing his tingling arm and leg as the blood returned to them. "Don't be sorry, Moony. It was fun." He gathered together all his Gryffindor courage and rolled onto the gaping boy beside him, allowing Remus to feel his own arousal against his hip as well. "See?"

Remus looked torn between the desire to press up against Sirius's body and throwing him off so he could run from the room. Sirius rested on his elbows and dipped his head to nuzzle into Remus's neck. "C'mon Moony. Don't be scared. It's just me." He thrust the tiniest bit against Remus, and they both let out surprised gasps as pleasure laced through them in sleepy golden tendrils that twined together in their bellies.

"P-Padfoot. We don't even know w-what we're doing." Remus's hands reached up to clutch at Sirius's sides.

"We're doing okay so far aren't we?" Sirius thrust down again, more deliberately this time and almost jumped in surprise when Remus actually growled. It was about two octaves deeper than his normal voice, and Remus's eyes were glazed with desire that lit an answering fire in Sirius. Then Remus's eyes widened and he jerked and slapped a hand to his mouth.

"Oh, God, I'm _sorry_," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to… I'm sorry!"

"Stop being _sorry._" Sirius held Remus still when he tried to wriggle away in mortification. "That was the sexiest thing I've _ever _heard."

Remus stilled. "What?"

Sirius laughed breathlessly. "_Wild thing… you make my heart sing…_"

Remus groaned. "Please don't sing at a time like this. It completely ruins the mood."

"Well, what would you rather do?" Sirius asked, grinning down at him, then opening his mouth to sing again.

He gasped instead when Remus wrapped both arms and legs around him – either in answer or in an effort to stop him singing, Sirius wasn't sure - and arched up against him. Either way Sirius wasn't complaining. "Moony!"

At that moment, the curtain was flung back with cheerful abandon. "Hey, Padfoot, I think Moony already went down for – _OH MY EYES!! MY POOR TORTURED EYES!!_"

Sirius and Remus jerked apart with shrieks and both made a grab for the bed curtains, which they pulled together quickly.

"_James Potter, this is the day you DIE!_" Sirius yelled through the closed curtains.

"...My eyes…my eyes…" was his only reply.

"Were they shagging?" Peter's voice asked with interest. "I didn't think they shagged yet. Just kissed and stuff…" There was a pause, then, "_Oh, Merlin - my brain! My brain! Must…scrub…away…images…_"

"_You_ need to scrub away images?" James moaned.

"For the love of Merlin's baggy underpants, we _weren't _shagging!" Sirius yelled. He paused then, remembering his rather limited knowledge in the men-shagging-men area and added, "What exactly _were _you picturing?"

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"I don't know how you can find this all so funny, Moony," Sirius grumbled, as the two of them tramped back from the kitchens with food as peace offering for traumatising their friends. "I would have thought you, of all people, would be horribly embarrassed and prudish about the whole thing."

"Why?" Remus asked. "It's hilarious. Did you see his face as he opened the curtains? It was brilliant!"

"Good God, I'm going out with a closet exhibitionist," Sirius groaned, and tried to knock himself unconscious with a piece of fruit cake. Remus grabbed the cake from him and rolled his eyes.

"I didn't _want _them to see, but you have to look at the funny side of it. _Lungwort,_" he added to the Fat Lady as they arrived at the portrait hole.

"What funny side of it?" Sirius demanded. "I can see the embarrassing side, and the traumatising side, and the never-wanting-to-look-them-in-the-eye-again side, but no _funny _side."

"And you call yourself a Marauder," Remus said, shaking his head and climbing though the portrait hole. "Are you ashamed that they know you were nearly shagging me?"

He said it teasingly, but when Sirius glanced into his eyes, he saw the shadow of seriousness and uncertainty in his expression. He felt his annoyance soften. "Course not, Moony. There's no one else I would rather be caught almost shagging. It's just that I would rather not be caught almost shagging _at all_." He saw the uncertainty melt and felt himself relax. "Besides, we weren't anywhere near shagging anyway. We were wearing too many clothes for one thing."

They stopped talking as they passed a group of fourth years playing exploding snap and made their way over to where James and Peter were sitting in 'their' chairs by the fire.

"Peace offering. Cake." Sirius dumped his load into James's lap while Remus did the same for Peter.

"This piece looks squished," Peter said.

"Sirius was using it as a blunt weapon. It'll be fine. Just pick the hair off."

"You think fruit cake will help scour my brain of the image of you two going at it in my own bedroom?" James screwed his face up at the memory.

"It's our bedroom, too," Sirius pointed out.

"Besides," Remus added. "There's chocolate cake as well."

"That only works for chocoholics like you, Moony," Peter told him, the side of his mouth quirking up in a grin.

"You know you were turned on by it, really, Prongs." Sirius took the piece of squashed fruit cake from Peter's chubby hand and bit into it cheerfully.

"Yeah, whatever, Black." James flicked a piece of cherry at Sirius, who caught it in his mouth, and grinned in a distinctly doggish manner.

"If you're just going to sit and pick the fruit out of that cake, there will be nothing left," Peter scolded James. "Give it to me if you're not going to eat it. It's a waste of good food."

"Dry fruit is the food of dark wizards, crones, Slytherins and my Great Uncle Albert," James said. "I don't know how they can ruin a good fruit cake by putting it in."

"Speaking of wasting food," Remus added, "I had some ideas for improvements to our prank. I thought we could make it a bit more fun and sporting since it's Christmas, and all."

"You're not backing out on us, are you, Moony?" James frowned sternly at him.

Remus shook his head and stole most of the chocolate cake back from Peter's lap as the other Marauder made a dive to rescue James's picked-out raisons before they were flicked into the fire. "I'm adding to it. It'll be brilliant if it works. Only problem is, we need to get the house elves to cooperate."

"Well, that's okay then," Sirius said cheerfully. "They adore James and me. We're their best customers."

"I don't actually remember you paying for anything," Peter said, peering down at his lap and frowning, before looking up to spot Remus's chocolaty smirk. "It's more like you're their best kitchen thieves. And just so you know, Remus, it doesn't count as a peace offering if the chocolate cake was only on loan."

Remus shrugged. "I wasn't that sorry anyway. Fruit-cake-sorry, maybe. But not chocolate-cake-sorry."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

A week later, on the morning of the day on which Operation Rain of Food was scheduled, the Marauders woke to find the grounds of Hogwarts knee-deep in snow. Sirius stared out of the dorm window at the wintery world stretched out below him. The sky – still dark indigo this early in the morning, was brilliantly fresh and clear, and the clean white sweep of the snow with its shadowy hollows where it built up in drifts against the trees of the forbidden forest, the Quidditch stands and castle walls was shadowed white-blue like antique bone china.

"This is perfect," he said. "No one can _not _enjoy our prank now."

"Come on, Padfoot," Remus said, tugging him away from the window. "We've got to go down and finish activating the spells before anyone else gets up."

Half an hour later, Sirius, Remus and Peter were placing the last of the charms on the massive wooden frame of the doors into the Great Hall, and James was double checking that the house elves were still going to go through with their part of the prank.

"Let's get back," Sirius murmured, with a last flick of his wand. "We have about an hour before the first people will be waking up and coming down. We need to be back in our dorm by then."

They met James halfway back to the Gryffindor tower when he appeared from beneath his invisibility cloak with a wicked grin on his face. "I think they're actually as excited about it as we are," he whispered. "Who knew the Hogwarts house elves had such a sense of humour? As long as everyone gets to eat in the end they're perfectly happy."

Sirius grinned, newer and greater pranks springing to mind with the promise of house-elf cooperation. Remus poked him in the ribs and gave him a quick smile. "Steady on there, Padfoot. Let's pull this one off first before you go planning the next one."

Sirius stared at him in admiration. "How did you know what I was thinking?"

"That wickedly inventive gleam you and James get in your eyes is unmistakeable," Remus said wryly.

Sirius hooked an arm around his waist and cast a quick glance around the empty corridor, before tugging Remus in and planting a kiss on his surprised mouth.

"Do you guys mind," James hissed. "We're meant to be sneaking here."

"We are sneaking," Sirius said.

"I don't mean sneaking kisses off Moony," James answered.

"But he's so cute and irresistible!"

"Still here," Remus said, rolling his eyes, "and in no way cute."

"Keep telling yourself that, babe," Sirius whispered into his ear as the climbed back through the portrait hole.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

They could hear the commotion from the Great Hall while they were still two corridors away as they made their way back down at breakfast time. Students were yelling and laughing, teachers were calling for order and post owls were screeching in confusion.

"Music to my ears," James said with a grin, as they strolled into the main corridor and made their way through to the Great Hall.

It was better than Sirius ever imagined. The entire hall had been inverted. The stone floor, the four house tables, the raised platform on which the staff table rested, and all the dishes full of food were planted neatly on the ceiling, looking completely unaffected by a force as insignificant as gravity.

However, it was the surface they were all standing on that was the most disconcerting. They hadn't been entirely certain how the enchanted ceiling would react to the spell, but the result was brilliant. Beneath their feet, on the seemingly solid surface, was bright, endless, sapphire-blue sky, with a few misty clouds skittering across its gleaming surface. A light shower of snowflakes were falling _upwards_ and the house banners the usually hung over each table stood illogically vertical, defying all the laws of gravity, and billowing like sails in the breeze that came in through the big double doors of the Great Hall.

That had been the hardest spell to perform – the one that removed the main doors from the rest of the spell so that they remained the right way up while the rest of the hall was turned upside-down.

Students and teachers were everywhere – some whooping in delight, others edging along the walls looking terrified. A few were trying to call order, while the more hungry adolescents were eyeing the unreachable breakfast longingly.

"This is completely awesome," Sirius breathed, commenting on both the room and the chaos they had caused.

"MmmFFF!" said Remus.

Sirius turned to look at him and saw that he was clinging tightly to a ceiling beam and staring with travel-sick greenness at the sky and moving clouds beneath his feet.

"Moony?"

"I thought being scared of heights was bad," Remus moaned, memories of Operation Pumpkin Spider's preparations obviously clear in his mind. "It's even worse when the 'heights' are the wrong way up, and are now technically 'downs'."

"You didn't used to be afraid of heights," Peter pointed out.

"That was before Sirius almost died falling off that ledge. And before I saw the stupid things he and James do on brooms. Now the thought of them makes me queezy. The prices I pay for being a Marauder!"

"Poor Remus," James patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry. Practically the whole school is in here now. Sirius and I will trigger the food spells now so you can get out of here as soon as possible."

"You do that," Remus said, swaying slightly.

Sirius reached out to hug him around the shoulders, before sneaking behind a roof beam with James, subtly pointing their wands at the ceiling and muttering the triggering charm. There were a few moments of tingling uncertainty, before every piece of food that was on the breakfast table suddenly remembered those pesky laws of gravity and plummeted towards the ground.

_This _was where house-elf cooperation had come in handy. The food that flew, splashed, splattered and coated the hoards of shrieking students and teachers consisted of scrambled eggs, custard, lukewarm porridge, yogurt, chocolate sauce, gravy and every other kind of soft-or-mostly-liquid dish the house elves could think of. Strawberry mousse clung to previously immaculate hairstyles, ice-cream dribbled down the backs of a hundred necks, rains of mayonnaise pattered down on shocked, upturned faces.

The volume level rose dramatically and the hall was now filled with yells, shrieks, hysterics, laughter and demands for order.

There were a few blissfully anarchic minutes before a few students gained their bearings and hurried towards the main doors to escape the chaos. Sirius grinned in satisfaction when they gasped as they past through the massive doorframes and Remus's powerful cleaning charm washed over them. They came out on the other side looking well-scrubbed and surprised, but very clean.

"You reckon we should shove Snivellus back and forward through the door a few times?" Peter asked. "If his hair had a few good scrubs, it would improve everyone's quality of life."

"Nice one, Wormtail," James grinned. "But we'd probably only draw attention to ourselves. We promised Moony we would keep a low profile."

"_HEY!_"

Everyone in the hall jumped as the voice of a prefect who had cast _sonorous_ on himself thundered over the noise. "_IF YOU GO THROUGH THE DOORS THEY CLEAN YOU. AND YOU HAVE __**GOT **__TO SEE WHAT'S GOING ON OUTSIDE!_"

There were a few moments of confusion, before everyone caught on and there was a stampede towards the doors. The Marauders followed at a more sedate pace to avoid being crushed underfoot like a number of unfortunate first years. They followed the general flow of people out of the Great Hall, into the main corridor, then out of the massive front doors and onto the long, sloping, snow-covered lawn that lay outside.

Spread out on dozens of huge picnic blankets was a breakfast-picnic fit for a castle full of kings. The house elves had really outdone themselves. Hot buttered toast, steaming bacon and sausages, giant silver tureens of porridge, pumpkin juice, kippers, eggs…the sheer amount of food boggled Sirius's senses.

Students were already falling on the food hungrily, running round in the snow armed with toast and snowballs, and filling the icy winter air with laughter and shouts of delight.

"Gentlemen?"

The four Maurauders turned around to find Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall standing behind them. Dumbledore looked delighted, his blue eyes twinkling madly, and even Professor McGonagall looked like she was trying to hold back a smile.

"Who? Us?" Sirius chorused with the other three.

"Yes," Professor Dumbledore said. "You."

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for subjugating my house elves into joining you in your plotting and mischief making," said Professor McGonagall. "Fifty points off for the mess in the Great Hall."

"Fifty points for a beautifully cast cleaning charm on the doors," added Dumbldore. "And fifty for organising this marvellous snow-picnic."

The Marauders stared at their teachers open-mouthed.

"Oh yes," said Professor McGonagall, just as she was about to turn away. "Detention every Wednesday and Friday evening until Christmas. And please go and inform Professor Flitwick about what charms you used on our Great Hall so it can be rectified and cleaned before lunch."

She and Professor Dumbledore strolled away to dish themselves up some sausages.

"Do you think they remember that the Christmas holidays are only a week away?" Peter asked.

"Yes," James, Sirius and Remus answered promptly.

"Yes, I suppose they do," Peter agreed, and was then knocked flat on his back by a stray snowball from Hagrid, the massive grounds keeper.


	62. Who Funds the Dark Lord's Rising?

REMUS:

**Disclaimer: Do you realise that this is the 62****nd**** time I'm writing one of these. I'm sure you've all gathered by now that I'm not JK Rowling, or those film dudes, and therefore do not own any of the Wizarding World. **

**BE WARNED: this chapter is unbeta'd. My beta does not have access to the internet properly at the moment, so I thought I would post this and edit it later once she's had a chance to beta it. Excuse any dreadful bits, please. It was written late at night in a thunderstorm, so no guarantee on quality :P**

**NB: For all those who have missed all the other times I've put this in my notes, and keep asking, this story ends at the end of 7****th**** year. Still a way to go. I hope you keep sticking with me.**

**REMUS:**

The last week of school before Christmas passed in a flurry of packing, holiday homework and snowfalls. Perhaps the only notable thing that happened was that, after the great success of 'Operation Rain of Food' and armed with his new spot-free appearance, Peter finally plucked up the courage to ask out Doreen Short, who (not to anyone's great surprise, because she, as Sirius had rather unkindly commented to Remus and James, was unlikely to be getting any better offers, except from boys who had a moustache fetish), said yes.

An illegal night-time date in the kitchens, two days of holding hands between classes, and the swapping of addresses meant that Peter left for the holidays in dazzlingly high spirits.

Remus, on the other hand, was unsure how he was going to cope with two Sirius-free weeks at home. The Marauders had agreed to meet up at Peter's house in the last week of the holidays, but that seemed like such a long time from Remus's position on the opposite side of the time-span.

On the plus side, he would get to see Neil and Angela again. It was wonderful to be able to step off the train and see them waiting for him on the station along with all the other parents. It made him feel like part of a real family for the first time in a very long while. Even though he was compelled to greet them with fifteen-year-old-boy nonchalance, he knew neither of them had missed the happiness in his eyes.

"So what are the rest of the trouble-makers up to this holiday?" Neil asked, as the waited in the line for the floo station.

"Sirius went with Mr. and Mrs. Potter," Remus told him. "And Peter's gone home as well. We're going to him for the last week of the holidays."

"Doesn't he have muggle relatives visiting like usual?" asked Angela, as she handed over some sickles for floo powder to the station attendant.

"Yup. I don't think his parents really realise what they're getting into, to be honest."

Neil laughed. "I doubt it. Off you go, Remus."

Remus stepped through the emerald-green flames and out onto the hearth rug in Angela and Neil's house. Being used to the luxuries of Hogwarts, Remus always forgot quite how frugally his adoptive parents lived. Although the house was clean and neat, the furniture was all old and worn – bought from second-hand shops in Diagon Alley and muggle London.

In spite of this, the whole house emanated cosiness and warmth. A Christmas tree stood beside the lounge window, glittering red, green, gold and silver with a mixture of magically charmed decorations and muggle fairy lights. Beneath it, a small pile of presents were carefully wrapped and arranged around the trunk.

"We were going to put it up when you came home," Angela told him, "But school finished late this year, and we thought you would rather come home to a Christmassy house."

"It's wonderful," Remus told her, looking around him and feeling a fountain of warmth spring up in his chest. "I always dreamed of Christmases like this when I was little."

"There aren't a lot of presents," Neil added. "We're a little strapped for cash. But Angela's planning a brilliant Christmas dinner, which you are not allowed to help cook under any circumstances."

"Hey!" Remus aimed a playful punch at his adoptive father, but Neil ducked out of the way in time, his still-boyish face lighting up with a mischievous, crooked smile.

"You'll have to do better than that, lad!"

Angela rolled her eyes and stepped around them to light the living room fire. Then, as Neil and Remus mock-tussled on the floor, she went to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Soon the house was filled with a warm smell of cottage pie, and as a new flurry of snow fell outside the window, the air tasted of Christmas.

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Christmas day passed, as Remus had always dreamed, like a fairytale holiday. There weren't a lot of presents, but they were all carefully picked out or made, and felt all the more precious for it. Remus hid the tape of muggle love songs that Sirius had sent him, along with the rather melodramatic and soppy note that accompanied it in true Padfoot style. Remus was only glad Sirius had the sense not to charm it to sing out loud. He wasn't quite ready to tell Neil and Angela about his relationship, and that would have been rather revealing.

It was two days later that the fairytale Remus was living in came to a sudden end, with no optimistic happily-ever-afters in sight. The cause of this abrupt return to reality came in the form of a _Daily Prophet_ article on the day after Boxing Day.

"They're happening more and more often," Neil announced at the breakfast table that morning, as Angela ladled porridge into bowls, and Remus chewed sleepily on a piece of toast. He jumped slightly when Angela's apron pocket sent out a long strip of fabric to nick the toast out of his hands, and attempted to consume it before he could wrestle it back. One thing he _never _missed was Angela's rather eccentric dress sense.

"What are?" Angela asked, batting Remus's hand away from her pocket and sitting down beside her husband.

"Look at this. Three more attacks on muggles in the last two weeks alone."

"Attacks?" Remus asked. In all the drama of the last term, he hadn't been paying much attention to the newspaper. "By that dark wizard's followers? Voldemort?"

"Yes." Angela exchanged a quick look with Neil. "You haven't heard about it at school?"

"I haven't had much of a chance to read newspapers. Why? Why are you looking at me so strangely?"

"Well, according to some articles, he's been recruiting followers young. A lot of people are saying that even students are joining him. Particularly pure-blood ones. He's fighting for pure-blood supremacy."

Remus stopped eating as he had a sudden, brief memory of James relating what happened in Dumbledore's office after Sirius had pulled his dangerous prank on Snape. Dumbledore had threatened the Slytherin by saying he would let people know where he had really been planning on going that night if he revealed Remus's secret. Remus felt his stomach clenching and rolling at the thought.

"What are they saying about it?" he asked. "Voldemort is getting stronger? Why aren't the Aurors doing anything?"

Neil gave him a sharp look. "Of course they are, lad. It's nothing for you to be worrying about. Try this porridge before it gets cold. Angela has really outdone herself. It usually tastes like wet concrete."

But Remus couldn't forget it, particularly in light of Neil and Angela's reactions. Every time he tried to bring up the subject again, they started talking about something else, skilfully manoeuvring the conversation to unrelated topics. Eventually, unable to sleep that night, Remus crept out of bed, snuck downstairs and into the kitchen. He opened the pantry, lighting his wand and shining it inside. He was relieved to see the old newspapers were stored where they always had been, beneath the shelves in a pile on the stone floor, right beside the large, clay potato bin.

He settled down beside the pile, and as quietly as he could, he started leafing through the many old papers, searching for scraps of information in their pages – anything that Neil and Angela might have wanted to hide from him.

…_Two more attacks on muggles in East Sussex. Aurors suspect they are targeting muggles who are in contact with the Wizarding World…_

…_Dark Lord's throng of followers are rumoured to be growing by the day. It is being said that he is seeking to build an army…_

…_In spite of all evidence to the contrary, the head of the Auror Department at the Ministry of Magic says that the situation is under control. When asked why the attacks on muggles and muggleborns are only increasing, he answered that…_

…_New reports from sources at Gringotts saying that many sympathetic families and powerful persons are secretly donating large amounts of money to Voldemort's cause. Goblins who run the bank are refusing to allow Aurors to breach security by…_

…_Some are saying that Lord Voldemort is such a powerful Dark Wizard that merely by saying his name, one can bring down a curse on themselves and those they love. The Minister describes this idea as the 'ludicrous ravings of fanatics who want to fan the flames of panic in the Wizarding World'…_

…_New evidence that Lord Voldemort is now recruiting dark creatures in his bid for power. Aurors intercepted emissaries on their way to negotiate with the giants in the Scottish Mountains, and there is strong evidence that he has even gained werewolf followers with promises of new, powerful potions that will aid them in transformations and better rights for their species in the new regime he has planned for running the Wizarding World. We ask our readers – what are the Aurors doing to prevent this wicked man from creating a society in which evil dark creatures like werewolves, hags and giants are given the same rights as good citizens?…_

Remus closed his eyes and felt a rush of sick dizziness wash over him as he read the last article. He hated himself for the rush of longing and joy at the mention of Voldemort's promised potions. He hated that there was some deep part of himself that felt a dark satisfaction that the Aurors were struggling to control the man who promised equal rights to creatures such as himself. Especially once he'd read the views of the reporter and the public when they heard about this new development.

_But I know the truth_, he thought to himself fiercely. _I know about men like Voldemort. My father was one of them. They will promise anything to gain power over you, and they have no intention of ever giving it. They speak so beautifully that you believe every word, even as they slowly take away your freedom and your lives and rights. Those werewolves will be nothing more than slaves. _

He looked down at the article again and clenched his fists. _No, Remus. You know the truth of it. There are no potions. There will be no equal rights. There will be nothing for people like you other than slavery. You know that. Stop dreaming. _

It was a beautiful dream, but life had taught Remus to recognise that that was what it was. Just a dream. And he would _fight _the man who allowed cursed people like himself to believe any different, and so increase their suffering.

_I know the truth_, he thought. _But they don't. They don't…_

And then, in a rush like a bucket of cold water over his head, he thought of Neil and Angela, and how they always seemed so poor, even with two full-time Ministry salaries coming in - even with Neil's recent promotion. They should have at least been living comfortably, even well.

Remus scrabbled thought the papers again until he found the other article that had caught his eye.

…_New reports from sources at Gringotts saying that many sympathetic families and powerful persons are secretly donating large amounts of money to Voldemort's cause. Goblins who run the bank are refusing to allow Aurors to breach security by…_

"Please, please say you're not doing what I thing you're doing," Remus whispered, his hands clenching round the paper he held. He knew for a fact that Neil and Angela would move mountains if it meant finding a cure to help him. He knew how much they hated to think of the way he suffered every month. Would they be taken in by Voldemort's promises of potions and rights for werewolves?

"_There aren't a lot of presents," _Neil had said._ "We're a little strapped for cash_._"_

Remus could barely read the words anymore. His vision was blurry and his hands were shaking.

"_You know we would do anything to help you, Remus."_

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Remus didn't have the courage to ask Neil and Angela directly whether they were funding Voldemort's cause. He dropped hints, which they brushed aside. He watched them carefully, but only saw the sweet-natured, loving couple they always were, even if there was the new, underlying tension that plagued all of the Wizarding World now that Voldemort was on the rise. He felt his stomach roll every time he thought of the fact that they were probably sacrificing their morals and integrity in an effort to help cure him of his condition.

Sometimes, Remus was sure that he was being ridiculous. Boyish, cheerful, fiercely loyal Neil would never betray the Wizarding world, and the muggles he worked to protect in that way. Stubborn, motherly, eccentric Angela, who fought so hard for the lives and right of the creatures overseen by her Department at the Ministry, would never be taken in by the promises of a homicidal dark wizard.

At other times – such as the day after the full moon without his pack to keep him from hurting himself – Remus looked into their eyes after he came around from his child-like state and _knew _that they would do anything, promise anything they had to, in order to alleviate his pain.

It was a very long two weeks, and Remus had to use every ounce of his acting skill to maintain his happy, Christmassy façade. He didn't dare to write to the other Marauders about his worries for fear of putting Neil and Angela at risk. If Aurors ever heard of what he suspected, they would attack first and ask questions later – questions that his adoptive parents would either refuse to, or be unable to answer for fear of hurting him. His helplessness made him miss his pack more than ever, and Moony, who refused to settle, prowled around in his mind, whining for Padfoot.

Remus thought he'd been successful in his act until two days before he was due to leave for the Pettigrews. It was nearing the end of their evening meal, and Remus was so uptight and tense that he could feel Moony wake up to prowl, growling, behind his eyes.

Angela reached over to collect his plate for washing and frowned as she noticed how little he had eaten. She put the plate down and reached out to touch a hand to Remus's forehead in a gesture so motherly that it made Remus's heart ache.

"Are you alright, love?" she asked, moving her hand to his cheek. "You don't feel as though you have a fever."

"I'm fine." Remus shrugged, too tired to keep up the act. He stared down at a gravy-spat on the tablecloth in front of him. "Just…you know…"

"No you're not, lad," Neil put in, leaning forwards. "You haven't been fine since the morning you saw that damned article. Are you worrying about Voldemort? You don't need to, you know. You're only fifteen. You should be worrying about teenagery things and leave the rest of it to us adults."

Remus shook his head, unable to meet Neil's eyes. "It's not that. Though you're wrong. Everyone should be aware and prepared. Even children. Adults can't protect every child from everything, you know."

"Well, we can damn well die trying," Neil snapped, a little harshly, though Remus didn't think it was aimed at himself.

"You said yourself he was recruiting from school," Remus couldn't stop snapping back. "And I told you. It wasn't that I was worried about anyway."

"Well, what is it then?" Angela asked, sitting down in her seat again and looking at him seriously. "Are you missing your friends? Are you missing Sirius?"

The way she said it – the barely noticeable glance she exchanged with Neil – caused Remus to stiffen. "What's that supposed to mean?" He didn't mean it to come out so sharply, but two weeks of being so on edge without his pack to comfort him made him quick tempered.

"Don't snap, Remus," Angela said calmly. She looked at him through narrowed eyes. "And I think you know perfectly well what we mean. You may think you're good at hiding it, but any time someone says his name your face lights up like a lumos charm. And if that didn't give it away, the way that child-like-you cried for him after the full moon last week was unmistakeable."

Remus's insides turned to lead and plummeted downwards. He clutched at the edge of the table as he swayed with the impact of the shock. They knew. They knew about him and Sirius. He couldn't help hearing Lily's voice in his mind; _"Remus, it's really frowned on in wizarding society. I mean it's frowned on in muggle society, but in wizarding society it's even worse and things could get really nasty for you if people found out."_

Was this the longest he would manage to keep a family? It seemed he was destined to be something that would break apart any family he became part of for the rest of his life.

"I…W-we…w-w-we haven't…I mean S-Sirius…" Remus was desperate to explain himself, to make them understand, and he hated how his stutter always turned up at the worst, most emotionally-charged moments where he needed to speak _clearly_ and stand up for himself.

He froze when a warm hand covered his own. He glanced down, expecting Angela's slender fingers to be resting over his own, but to his amazement, it was Neil's blunt ones that came into blurry view as he focused on them. "It's okay, lad. We're not angry or disgusted or any of the things you're thinking right now."

Remus's heart gave a hopeful quiver from where it was lodged deep in his stomach, and his eyes followed the line of Neil's arm and up to his earnest face, surrounded by his mop of sandy-coloured hair.

"You're n-not?"

"Of course we aren't," Angela said. She reached out and covered Neil's and Remus's hands with her own. "When are you going to realise that we're a _family_, Remus. We don't judge one another for things that we can't help. In fact, we feel _happy _and _grateful_ that you have been able to find someone who knows what you are, and still obviously cares so deeply for you."

Remus grimly fought back the un-manly tears that wanted to flood his eyes and run treacherously down his cheeks.

"We've known for ages," Neil added. "Since summer when we went to rescue Sirius from the Black house. I can't deny that it was a bit of a shock at first, but we were never disgusted with you, Remus." The small, apologetic glance Neil shot at Angela led Remus to believe that Angela's fast talking may have had something to do with Neil's magnanimous view of his adoptive son's sexuality, but he couldn't bring himself to care. This easy acceptance was more than he could ever have dreamed of.

Suddenly, it didn't seem to matter who Neil and Angela were giving their money to. The lingering, underlying resentment that had lurked like a guilty spider in Remus's chest had scuttled away, and he was left with only the warm fuzz of family in its place.

He would talk to James and Sirius and together they would think of a way to stop Neil and Angela from funding Voldemort's cause. But until then, he would try not to worry. After all, what difference would their little contribution make to the Dark Lord in the end?

"Now, I think it's time we talked about safe sex," Angela said cheerfully.

The warm fuzz disappeared under a wave of embarrassed shock.

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Remus was the first to arrive at the Pettigrew's house two days later. Because Peter's family lived in a muggle neighbourhood, and had muggle family staying with them, Remus had to arrive by muggle transport. Luckily, living in a muggle neighbourhood themselves, Neil and Angela had a car – a very battered Ford Escort which Neil referred to as 'my old girl' – that managed to bang and pop along all the way to Kent with only minimal aid from magic to stop its exhaust pipe from falling off.

The Pettigrews lived in a cheerful housing estate full of houses that had once all been exactly alike, but over the years had been moulded by their inhabitants to suit their own families. The Pettigrews had a haphazardly scruffy front garden that screamed 'quickly cleaned up for the visitors'. The lawn was mowed, and bright annuals were in the beds, but the weeds growing in the path and along the edges of the flower beds, and the tell-tale lightening in the grass where long standing objects had been recently moved, spoke of a recent clean-up operation. 

Peter had obviously been watching for his friends out of his front window, because as soon as Remus, Neil and Angela started up the garden path, the front door was thrown open with an enthusiastic shout of, "Moony!"

"I can't believe that awful nickname stuck," Angela commented, as she and Neil stood well back, and Remus was hammered on the back in enthusiastic greeting.

"It's grown on me," Remus told her, grabbing Peter into a casual headlock and ruffling his mousy blonde hair. Peter yelled and went scarlet in protest, but because of Remus's werewolf strength, had no way of breaking free until his hair was well and truly mussed.

"Merlin's balls, Rem, I always forget how strong you are," Peter panted, straightening up and trying to fix his hair.

"You practically hammered my spleen out my stomach," Remus pointed out.

"True. S'good to see you, Moony."

Remus smiled and jammed his hands into his pockets to stop himself from hugging Peter fiercely. He really hadn't realised how much he missed his pack until he saw one of them again. "You too, Pete."

"Moon alright?"

Remus shrugged. "No pack. New scars. It was okay."

Peter glanced over Remus's shoulder. "Alright, Professor Anders? Angela?"

"I'm not your professor anymore, Peter," Neil said. "You're welcome to call me by my first name."

"You're joking, right? I can never shake off the feeling you're going to give Remus detention when he calls you that. My Mum wants to meet you as well. Come inside."

Remus and the Anders followed Peter into the house, which gave the same impression of swift clean-up as the garden. The furniture looked relatively new, but flimsy – the kind of muggle furniture that can be glued together by any slap-dash DIY hopeful, and will usually last a couple of years if it's propped up by books and other furniture towards the end.

Peter led them to the kitchen where his mother and a plump, mousy girl who might have had a fairly pretty face once it was excavated from beneath two inches of makeup, were peeling potatoes and gossiping cheerfully to one-another. The girl looked to be eighteen or nineteen, and Remus guessed it was Peter's cousin, Sheryl, who had fallen victim to the perfume prank at the end of second year for spilling pink nail varnish on Peter's bedroom carpet.

"Mum? Sheryl? This is Remus, and his adopted parents, Neil and Angela Anders."

Remus was amused to note that Peter flinched as he said the name 'Neil'.

"Mr.and Mrs. Anders! Come in and sit down. I'll get you a cup of tea. Sheryl, be a dear and put the potatoes on to boil – no in the other pot, I'm going to use that one for the beans. _Do _sit down. Here, I'll move the cat off the chair. _So _glad to meet you, Remus. Peter talks about you all the time – _watch that hot water, Sheryl_ – and I've been dying to meet you. Sugar? Milk?"

Mrs. Pettigrew – who looked a lot like an older, female version of her son – bustled round the kitchen rather haphazardly, picking up a clean mug, dropping it into the sink, getting a new one, moving the cat, forgetting where she put the teabags, and eventually managing to compile together a few mugs of tea. Peter grabbed Remus's elbow and steered him out of the room while the parents were busy.

"Sorry about that. She gets all flustered with visitors around."

Remus smiled. "It's okay. I like her. Wow – a real muggle lounge."

"Shh! We're not supposed to say the 'm' word while my family are here." Peter motioned to a boy of about their age who lounged on the sofa watching a lot of tiny men running round after a ball on what Remus recognised as a television. "Hey, Ed!"

The boy, who was wearing a rather scruffy t-shirt and flared jeans grunted and glanced up briefly. He had the same mousy hair that ran in the family, but seemed to have luckily missed out on the gene that caused plumpness and the hopeless lack of dress sense.

"This is Remus. My friend from school."

Ed's nodded, belched and muttered, "Pleasure," before turning back to the television. Remus wondered he was referring to his belch or the presence of his cousin's friend.

"My Dad and my Aunt and Uncle are out looking at the cliffs," Peter explained. They'll be back soon. Take a seat."

Remus sat on the edge of the rather distressingly floral-patterned sofa and looked wistfully out the window. "D'you know when Sirius and James are getting here?"

He glanced at Peter who was eyeing him with uncharacteristic empathy.

"Any minute now, they said. Rough few weeks?" Peter cast a quick glance at Ed, who appeared to be absorbed in the television.

Remus gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Moony misses his pack," he said quietly. "We both do."

"And Sirius most, huh?" Peter gave him a knowing look and Remus flushed, casting a warning glance in Ed's direction, but was prevented from saying anything by the loud roar of a motorbike screeching to a halt in front of the Pettigrews' house, and only narrowly missing the rather flimsy front fence. He and Peter exchanged gaping looks.

"Please tell me he didn't," Remus murmured rather faintly, as Peter dragged him to his feet.

Peter was unable to fulfil this request, however, because they opened the front door to see two lanky, helmeted figures climbing off the bike. Remus knew nothing about motorbikes, but he had to agree that this gleaming mass of shining chrome, glossy black and condensed speed had Sirius written all over it.

Then he stopped looking at the bike altogether, because its owner was swaggering up the front path dressed in flared black muggle jeans, tight black t-shirt, and leather jacket; glossy black hair falling with casual grace into wicked grey eyes, and shining helmet tucked under his arm. Two weeks with Mrs. Potter's cooking had easily managed to restore Sirius to his former glory.

"_Gnorfl_," said Remus, who had temporarily forgotten all words of the English language that would be suitable for use outside a very private setting, possibly containing a bed.

"Eyes up, Moony," James said, sounding amused. "His face is approximately twenty inches north of where you're looking right now."

Remus spared a glance for the messy-haired marauder. "_Squiffib_," he explained.

"I know," James said, nodding sagely. "I told him wearing so much black leather would be detrimental to your sanity."

"Like he's one to talk," Sirius complained, waving towards Remus, "Dressed up all sexily like that."

Remus, who was actually dressed in his most boring brown corduroy trousers and a neatly ironed white button-down shirt, gaped at him, this time in insulted shock. Luckily, it managed to kick-start his brain again – enough, anyway, for him to say, "_Me?_ I'm not the one swaggering around in black leather and tight bell-bottom jeans. This is my most boring and literary outfit, I'll have you know. I wanted to maintain a low profile."

"Well, you failed," Sirius said. "You just look very erotically scholarly and bookish. You couldn't have picked out a more provocative outfit if you tried." He lounged against the fence post and crossed his feet lazily at the ankles, which only succeeded in drawing Remus's eyes downwards again.

"You have some bizarre kinks, Padfoot," Remus grumbled. "Please tell me you've packed some normal clothes as well,"

"We're not allowed to wear robes here," Sirius reminded him. "All the muggles, see. Prongs and I went shopping for clothes, and you'll not _believe _some of the stuff muggles wear. We've never worn muggle clothes before, so we had to hang around London for a bit observing people to see what we should wear."

"Where was that? A biker's bar?" Peter eyed the metal studs in Sirius's leather jacket. "I think that jacket was actually nailed together."

Sirius shrugged. "I like it."

"So how've you been, lads?" James asked, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his much-more-ordinary jeans and giving his trademark pumpkin grin. "Holding up okay? How was the moon, Rem?"

Remus shrugged, thinking about all the things he's been dying to tell his friends, and almost collapsing in relief now that they were here again. It was strange how he felt so much safer and more confident with them around. "It was okay. Missed you guys."

"It's good to see you, Moony." The abrupt change of Sirius's tone from joking to that gentle, almost vulnerable voice that he'd only ever used on Remus, had Remus fighting back the urge to throw himself into his arms and blurt out all his problems.

Instead he swallowed and said, "S'good to see you, too, Padfoot."

"Oh. My. God."

The boys turned abruptly at the distinctly feminine screech behind them to see Sheryl and two other girls - who were also holding up womanfully beneath four inches of makeup, and very tight miniskirts – standing in the front doorway and staring out, open-mouthed.

"Where did they come from?" Remus hissed to Peter, not having spotted the girls earlier.

"I have no idea," the chubby Marauder replied. "They just appear sometimes. They live down the road, apparently, but I reckon Sheryl really carries them round in her pocket in mini-form, and just adds water when she feels the need for a gossip or practise their choir of girly squealing in three parts."

"Did you say they were all staying for the week?" one of Sheryl's pocket-pals demanded, casting greedy eyes over Sirius, and then James, before moving back to Sirius again. She giggled and glanced at Sirius from beneath her lashes. Sirius raised an elegant eyebrow, then turned slowly to look at Peter.

"Sorry!" Peter said, wringing his hands. "I did warn you my relatives were here. Here, let me take you up to my room. We're all squashing in there, I'm afraid."

The other Marauders trailed after him into the house, while Remus reflected that it could be a very long week if the make-up and miniskirt brigade would be trailing after them the whole time.

Even Belching-Ed deigned to look up from the television to sweep a disbelieving glance over Sirius and James, and then Peter, as if trying to figure out how they could possibly be friends with his chubby, watery-eyed cousin. Remus felt sorry for Peter who looked a mixture of indignant and proud at his family's reactions to his friends.

"It's the motorbike," Remus explained. "I can't believe you actually bought it, Sirius. You know you can't take it to school, don't you?"

"The Potters said I could leave it at theirs. If I can escape my family, I'm going to charm it to fly this summer. What are these giant fabric tubes lying all over your floor, Wormtail?"

"Sleeping bags. You sleep in them."

James and Sirius looked at them with interest. "Cool. I get to go to bed dressed as a sausage roll," said Sirius. "Muggles are brilliant. I don't know how they come up with these things."


	63. Fending off Girls

SIRIUS:

**Disclaimer: I still have no claim over the Wizarding World. That's not likely to change anytime soon. **

**A/N: If anyone feels like doing illustrations for any of these later chapters, I would be very happy. :D **

**SIRIUS:**

Sirius hadn't missed the fact that something was worrying Remus, but it wasn't until later that night when they were all in bed that the other boy approached him. James and Peter were snoring gently as they slept – Peter on the bed, and James on the floor beside it. There was an extended rustling from beside Sirius as the sleeping-bagged shape that was Remus squirmed the two feet between them and pressed up against Sirius's side. Sirius freed one of his arms and curled it round the padded form, drawing Remus closer to himself.

"What's wrong, babe?" he murmured. "I know something is. You've been twitchy all day."

Remus's head emerged from the top of his sleeping bag, his tawny hair wildly static, and he pressed his face into Sirius's neck. "I'm really glad you're here," he whispered back. "Angela and Neil know."

"Know what?"

"About us. You and me."

Sirius felt his heart plummet in his chest. _This _was what was upsetting Remus? He would have bet money the Anders would be accepting of Remus, especially because of the amount of understanding they showed for his lyncanthropy. It seemed cosmically unfair that Remus always ended up with families who couldn't accept him as he was.

"Oh, Merlin, Rem, I'm sorry." Sirius freed his other arm and brushed it through Remus's fine hair.

Remus shook his head without lifting it. "No, no. It's fine. They…I mean…they're fine with it. Gave me The Talk. I thought the one upside to having lost my parents was that I would be able to avoid that. I almost melted with embarrassment. How do they even know that much about gay sex?"

Sirius gave an uncertain chuckle while some treacherous inward part of him that was fuelled by teenage hormones hoped that Remus had remembered to take notes in spite of his embarrassment. "That's not what's bothering you?"

There was a long silence, then Remus squirmed around again until he was lying on his belly, propped up on his elbows and staring down into Sirius's face. He looked pale and haunted in the thin strip of street-lamp light that came through a crack in the curtains. "Sirius," he said, his voice very soft and even more serious. "If someone offered you a potion or a spell that would help me at the full moon – you know, help me keep my mind, or take the pain away – what would you pay to get it for me?"

Sirius opened his mouth to answer an immediate "_Anything_, Moony," but stopped himself before he did. There was something about the tone of Remus's voice that had tightened the nerves in his body until they twanged like violin strings. He realised Remus wanted a truthful answer. A genuinely truthful answer. He thought for a moment before saying carefully, "Almost anything Moony. I would give my life if it meant helping you through your transformations."

"_Almost _anything," Remus repeated, but his voice didn't sound upset or hurt, just odd. Almost frighteningly clinical. "You'd give your life Padfoot?"

"Yes," Sirius said, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Would you give all your money?"

"Of course I would. I would give you all my money anyway. You know that. Remus, what's this about?" It was very rare that Sirius called Remus by his full name. He usually shortened it to 'Rem' or 'Moony'. He knew Remus would understand how serious he was. Sirius bit the inside of his cheek and took a stab in the dark. "Have you heard about a potion that could help you? What do you need? Money? I'll give you whatever you need."

"You said you'd give your life," Remus said. There was a definite tremor in his voice, and Sirius went from tense to genuinely frightened. Remus leaned forward and Sirius felt his lips brushing his ear. "Would you give James's life?"

"_What?_" Sirius's head jerked, bashing against Remus's in shock.

Remus slapped a hand over Sirius mouth and held his head still, his fingers catching and clenching in Sirius's dark hair. "Would you give J-J-James's life?" His voice now a half-sob, broken by his stuttering. "Or P-Peters? How about R-Regulus? Or even someone you d-d-don't know? Would you sacrifice the l-life of a random person – a Muggle – to h-h-help me? Would you sacrifice everything g-good you've tried to be all these years just to h-help a dark creature like m-m-me?"

Remus was trembling violently, his hand clenching and unclenching against Sirius's mouth. His breathing was hot and ragged.

_He's cracked_, Sirius thought, panicking. _It's got to him. Everything has finally got to him and the poor thing has finally cracked. I'm so sorry, Moony. God, I'm so, so sorry…_

He struggled violently, but Remus was half on top of him, and his werewolf strength was just too great. Sirius couldn't help thinking of all the dozens of books he'd read since he'd found out about Remus's lycanthropy. He knew the statistics. He knew that a werewolf's life expectancy was never that good. They tore themselves to death at the full moon, or killed themselves rather than face going through one more transformation. Sometimes they lost their minds completely. The fragile shield between wolf and man broke down, turning them feral. According to the newspapers, that's what had happened Greyback – the werewolf that bit Remus as a child.

But Remus was supposed to be the strong one. He had a will forged of iron and courage and stubbornness. He had a flair for life that refused to go out. He had a pack and a family and Sirius who loved him so fiercely he sometimes curled up with the ache of it. It wasn't supposed to happen to Moony.

"What would you _do_?" he was now hiccupping into Sirius's ear, even as he pinned him down. "_What w-would you do to s-s-save me from what I am?_" He was half shaking Sirius's head, causing Sirius's jaw to clack and his teeth to sink painfully into his tongue. "_Damnit, Sirius! Answer m-me! Answer m-m-m-m…_"

Then the room was suddenly flooded with light. Remus jerked, his head snapping towards Peter's bedside lamp in a very wolf-like gesture. Sirius, whose head was still trapped in place, strained his eyes to see James and Peter, both looking pale and frightened, both with their wands trained on Remus.

"Move away from Sirius, Moony," James said. His voice was tremulous, but the tip of his wand was steady.

Remus blinked, his expression the picture of uncertainly. His fly-away hair was still tousled and static, and he was still half in his sleeping bag, only the sleeves of his tartan winter pyjamas visible. If Sirius hadn't been acutely away of the inhuman strength pinning him to the floor, the situation would have been comical, or perhaps just very, very sad.

"_Move_, Remus." James repeated, his voice more certain now.

Remus looked at him, then down as Sirius. In that moment, Sirius saw his expression going from half-crazed with desperation, to horrified and sick. He jerked his hands up and tried to shift away, but he had become twisted up in his sleeping bag and slipped, banging his head against Peter's wooden floor. He didn't try to move again, just lying there, shaking and making little canine noises of hurt or pain in the back of his throat.

Sirius sat up, feeling weak and shaky with a mixture of shock, relief and worry. He looked up at James and Peter who seemed to be as lost and bemused as he felt, then back down to where Remus lay. He looked so vulnerable with his stick-thin arms and sharp elbows curled against his padded chest. He didn't look like a young man of nearly sixteen.

"Sirius, maybe you shouldn't – " James began, but stopped when Sirius shot him a look.

Sirius gently, gently put his hand on the curve of Remus's back through the sleeping bag. Remus jumped and his breathing became even more ragged as he curled up tightly. "I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry."

Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius saw James and Peter lower their wands a little at the words, looks of unutterable relief on their faces.

"It's okay," he said, keeping his voice as calm as he could. He felt a bit like Hagrid must feel when approaching a just-tamed wild animal. "It's okay, Moony. You didn't hurt me. Come on, look at me."

He knew Remus didn't want to, but he also knew that the boy's guilt would force him to do as he asked. Remus uncurled a little and rolled onto his back, facing up, but his head tilted to the side at an odd angle. It took Sirius a moment to recognise the canine gesture of submissiveness, but when he did, he thought the lump in his throat might actually swell enough to stop him breathing. Taking his cue from his own canine side, he dipped his head down and opened his jaws gently over Remus's throat. He held them there as he felt the rigid tension fall away from the werewolf's body.

When he lifted his head again, he saw Remus staring up at him with wide, amber eyes. "I'm sorry," he said again, his voice raspy.

Sirius laughed. It wasn't funny, but he couldn't stop himself. It was strange how he always seemed to laugh at the moment inappropriate times – like that time in Dumbledore's office after the Willow Prank. He also knew he sounded more than a little hysterical.

"Voldemort," Remus said.

Sirius stopped laughing. He flicked a glance to James and Peter who were sitting rigidly. They still had their wands gripped in their hands.

"He's recruiting dark creatures," Remus added. His voice was still hoarse and a little broken, but it held a trace of his usual, collected self. "Giants, hags, vampires. Werewolves. He makes them promises, you see. He promises the giants land, and the vampires easy prey, and Merlin only knows what the hags want. He promises the werewolves a new kind of potion – or spell, I'm not sure. He promises he can take away the pain of the transformation. He promises he can help us to keep our minds in wolf form. You know how much I – any werewolf – craves that."

Sirius didn't know whether to feel elated at the promise of a cure or terrified at the price.

"Are you going to join him?" Strangely, it was Peter who spoke. The colour of his face reminded Sirius of day-old porridge.

"We…" Sirius hesitated, glancing at James and Peter. "Um…_I _wouldn't blame you. If you … I mean, I _wish_ that you didn't have to…but if you did…"

"Would you do it?" Remus asked, tilting his head into the submissive gesture again. Sirius realised he was reassuring him that he wasn't going to attack him again. "For me. Would you do it?"

It was the hardest thing anyone had ever asked Sirius. He kept hearing Remus's voice in his mind "_Would you s-s-sacrifice everything g-good you've tried to be all these years just to h-help a dark creature like m-m-me?_"

He had to tell the truth. He knew he had to. And James and Peter knew this was a question for him, not them. "No, Remus," he whispered.

Remus sagged, though Sirius couldn't tell from his expression what he was feeling.

"I mean," Sirius said, "I would love for you to have that. But it's like you said. Everything I've ever done in my life, I've done because I've been trying to be a good person. Sometimes I get it wrong, and I _know _that, but I try really hard. And to join Voldemort… That would be the wrong thing, Moony. For me, it would. I'm sorry."

Remus just continued to look at him and Sirius wished he could read his expression.

"You have to make you own decision, of course," Sirius continued, the silence sucking the words out of his mouth. "And if there _is _a potion, that means there _can be _a potion. And if Voldemort can create it, so can we. I would make the potion for you, Moony. I'd do everything in my power to work out how. But I won't join him. Not after everything I've fought for."

And then, to Sirius's amazement, Remus's face broke out in a smile. It was one of those rare, face-filling, eyes-lighting smiles that only child-like Remus was usually unguarded enough to give. Sirius felt himself sag with relief.

"There's no potion, Padfoot," Remus said gently. "There's no spell."

Sirius frowned. "But you said –"

"I said that's what Voldemort is promising the werewolves to bring them to his side. He's _promising_ that and equal rights for werewolves in the new society he has planned. But you and I – we know enough about lies and betrayal to know that it's only words, don't we, Sirius? We know the depths that people will sink to in order to –" he broke off and studied Sirius's face. "I had to know," he said. "I had to know you wouldn't compromise yourself for me. Don't you see that? And you wouldn't. I should have known that."

Sirius reached out to trace the clean arch of Remus's eyebrow, then drew his hand away as he remembered James and Peter were watching.

"Is that what all that was about?" he whispered. "I thought you had gone crazy."

Remus's head drifted to the side, his eyes skittering away from Sirius's face. "I had, a little. Sometimes it's just too hard to hold on to the control. I try, I do, but sometimes I'm just not strong enough. That's why you should always be a little afraid of me. I am." His eyes moved to James and Peter and he smiled. "True Gryffindors, the lot of you. It takes courage to draw your wand on an enemy, but even more so to draw your wand on a friend when you have to. I'm glad you were brave enough to do that."

James and Peter looked like they weren't sure whether to be proud or guilty.

"I think," Remus said, enunciating his words carefully, "that Neil and Angela are funding Voldemort."

It was said so matter-of-factly that Sirius felt like he was reeling from a blow to the head.

"_What?_" all three of them gaped.

"They're acting really shifty, and I know their money's going somewhere. The way they were talking about the potions and spells Voldemort promises…it seems to be the only likely explanation. I know they would do anything for me, and I think that they may have been taken in by him." The barest crack in his voice betrayed how much the words cost him.

_Oh. _It all came together in Sirius's head, then. _Oh, dear Merlin and Mordred, this is why he was testing me. He wanted to see whether everyone he loves would betray themselves like this for him. _

"You might be jumping to conclusions," James said, not sounding very much like he believed his own words.

Remus sighed. "Perhaps. But with the information I have it's the only logical explanation."

"Damn, Moony." Sirius leant down and gathered Remus's sleeping-bagged form into his arms. "You poor sod. Someone up there is really out to get you."

Remus turned his face into Sirius's chest and chuckled half-heartedly. "Maybe I was really, really wicked in a past life," he suggested.

"I don't think you could ever be wicked," Peter said. "Though if you scare me like that again, I really _will _hex you. I nearly wet my bed, I swear."

Remus laughed, more strongly this time. "Sorry, Wormtail. You have my full permission to hex me if I do it again."

"What _are _you going to do?" James asked. "About the Anders, I mean."

Remus sighed and shook his head. "I don't know. I really don't. There's not really anything I _can _do."

"I guess not."

It was only hours later, when the first touch of dawn shimmered on the horizon that any of them got any sleep.

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Although they were worn out the next morning, Sirius did notice that Remus seemed much more relaxed that he had been when they first arrived. He wasn't sure if it was because Remus had shared the burden of the Anders' secret, or just because he was with his pack, but whatever it was, Sirius was grateful.

It was short-lived however, when more and more of Sheryl's friends began turning up at the house. Every girl on the housing estate between the ages of fourteen and seventeen seemed to have heard about the boys staying at the Pettigrews, and found excuses to make an appearance. James was delighted. Sirius and Remus were not.

Sirius was used to girls giggling over him, but at school, they usually held back to overt flirting in the knowledge that Sirius was perfectly capable – both in skill, and lack of conscience – of hexing them green, or cursing them with boils in unlikely places. These Muggle girls had no such restraints, and Sirius noticed that he wasn't the only one who was becoming more tense as the day wore on. He also wondered how Peter was planning on explaining away the finger marks gouged with werewolf strength into every table-edge and chair arm that had been in contact with Remus's hands. The werewolf had been twitchy anyway, and Sirius knew it was only a matter of time before Remus's large reserve of politeness and good manners ran out.

It was now late afternoon, and Sirius found himself sitting in the lounge with his friends, fending off yet another attack. Just-Call-Me-Lizzie had actually had the gall to drop herself _into _Sirius's lap with the excuse that they were running out of seats.

"There's spare seat over there," Sirius ground out, resisting the urge to hex the girl on the spot.

Just-Call-Me-Lizzie squirmed around, turning large brown eyes on Sirius. "But you don't mind if I sit here, do you?"

"Actually, I do," he said, his much smaller reserve of good manners having been exhausted sometime around lunch. "I am going out with someone who would be very unimpressed to see me like this." The faint sound of splintering wood from Remus's direction indicated the truth of his words.

The faces of nearly every girl in the room fell at this news. "You've got a girlfriend?" Just-Call-Me-Lizzie whined. "You never said."

"I did, in fact, this morning. But you lot were all too busy flirting to listen."

She went scarlet and hauled herself out of his lap. "There's no need to be so rude!"

"Besides," said Possibly-Sam-Or-Sarah, who had even less self restraint that Just-Call-Me-Lizzie, "girlfriends can be dumped."

"Excuse me," Remus said, standing up and radiating excruciating politeness. "I'm just nipping to the loo." He stalked out of the room.

Sirius exchanged a worried glance with James and Peter.

"It he always so uptight?" One of the pocket-pals asked, looking a little wistfully after Remus. "He's quite cute in a big-eyed, bookish kind of way."

_He's taken!_ Sirius thought furiously. _So go and sink your claws into someone else. _

"He's a black-belt in karate," Peter said. "He could punch a man's stomach through his spinal chord. Has done, in fact. And he doesn't like immaturity."

Sirius had no idea what 'karate' was, but the way the girls' eyes widened indicated Remus was probably free from advances anytime soon. Sirius could have kissed Peter. Instead, he stood and walked out the room, ignoring the questioning glances sent his way.

Remus was in Peter's room, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head between his knees as though to keep himself from fainting. The way his fingers clenched on the back of his neck indicated that it was more likely to be preventing him from maiming someone.

He glanced up briefly as Sirius came in. "Sorry, Padfoot."

"Don't be sorry. You had every right. If I'd known it would be like this, I wouldn't have come."

"I would've." Sirius looked at him in surprise. "I needed to see you."

Sirius sat beside him and reached out to run his fingers through Remus's hair. "I feel no attraction for any of them, you know," he said. "I only want you, Moony."

Remus laughed. "I know. The wolf's just not got a grip on the concept of one-sided flirting. And I was a bit moody anyway."

"Well," Sirius said, brightening as an idea hit him. "I know something that will cheer you up."

"What?" Remus asked warily.

"Remember I promised to write a song about our great love and how we got together? Well, James's Great Aunt Rosemary came round to his house for a few days over Christmas and she is one _scary _lady. Looks like a hag in a velvet dress and has a voice like a cat being strangled in a biscuit tin. She kept calling me 'my poor little dumpling' and patting me on the bum."

Remus snickered and Sirius elbowed him.

"So _anyway_," he continued, "Every time she came into a room, I escaped and hid in the library – only place the old bat wouldn't go because she says she saw a ghoul in there once, though James says it was actually a boggart – and it was so boring I wrote our song. You want to hear it? It has actions."

Remus groaned. "Couldn't you have read a book instead?"

"Moony!" Sirius put on his best scandalised expression. "How could you suggest such a thing? You are the fount of all my knowledge."

"You might like being knowledgeable for once," Remus said, a little desperately. "Knowledge is power, Sirius. Power corrupts. I thought you liked corrupting people to the Marauder way. Study hard. Be evil. See where I'm going with this? Compositions and more importantly _performances_ of songs have nothing to do with it."

"But I've made it up now. You _have _to listen to it!"

Remus sighed and flopped back on the bed. "Alright, fine! I'm braced. Let's get this over with. Sing fast. It'll be like ripping off a plaster."

Sirius pouted. "You're not taking this seriously. It took me ages to come up with all the words. It even scans." He hesitated. "Mostly."

"Did James hear it?"

"I sang it to him. I'm not sure if he heard it through his pillow."

"His pillow?"

"He was trying to suffocate himself at the time."

"Okay." Remus sat up and rubbed his temples. "Go on then. The things I do for you. Honestly!"

Sirius grinned and bounced up to stand in front of Remus. He cleared his throat and adopted a dramatic pose with his hands on his hips and his head thrown back. Remus might not appreciate the song, Sirius noticed, but he definitely appreciated the view if the way his eyes flicked over Sirius's body was any indication.

"Wait, wait!" Remus held up his hand and pulled out his wand to cast a silencing charm on the room.

"You'll get into trouble using magic over the holidays."

"The Pettigrews are a magical family. No one will know. Go ahead."

Sirius coughed importantly and began:

"_There once was a sex god called Sirius Black,_

_Who had all the good looks that so many lack._

_He was charming and witty, and set hearts aflutter,_

"_I wish I was with Padfoot!" all others would mutter."_

"Hang on!" Remus, who had cringed unflatteringly through the whole verse, now held up his hand. "I'm not going to go through this torture if it's just going to be a song about how awesomely brilliant you are."

"If you would let me get past the first verse, you would see that it isn't," Sirius sulked.

"Fine, fine! Go on then. How many more verses are there?"

"Three."

"Three. Right." Remus sat up and braced his shoulders bravely. Sirius scowled, but continued.

"_There once was a boy with a slight furry problem,_

_(Not as slight as a rabbit, but not bad as a goblin)_

_He had hair like the autumn and eyes of pure amber,_

_There were hundreds that loved him, but just one would he gander."_

"I'm not sure whether to be flattered or horrified," Remus said. "What do you mean 'not as bad as a goblin'?"

"It was the only thing that I could think of that rhymed with 'problem'. Now shut up and stop interrupting.

"_And that one (yes, you've guessed it) was Sirius Black,_

_Who was proud to announce that he loved him right back. _

_He rode in on his charger, and scooped up his love,_

_Then soared into the sunset, and through skies above._

_You see Padfoot's charger was not just a horse,_

_('Cos he's much to cool for that transport of course.)_

_On a shiny, new motorbike, they flew away,_

_And their fangirls all fainted (or so I've heard say)."_

Remus, Sirius was relieved to note, wasn't trying to suffocate himself with his own pillow by the end of the song as James had. In fact, in spite of a fair amount of cringing, he was actually smiling, his head tilted to the side, his expression fond.

"That was lovely, Pads," he said, holding out his arms. Sirius bounded over to the bed and burrowed into them.

"You're only saying that because you're glad it's over."

Remus laughed. "Of course I'm not. I don't lie to you. You know that. If anyone else was singing it, it would be my favourite song."

"Really?"

"I promise. No one's ever written a song for me before."

They both jumped when the door handle turned and scrambled away from one another. The door opened and Belching Ed's head appeared round the frame. His watery blue eyes – that looked similar to Peter's, though a little less good-naturedly bemused – flicked over them curiously.

"Er…hey. I did knock."

The silencing charm, Sirius realised. "It's okay," he said. "What's wrong?"

"I was just wondering if you guys wanted to escape the girls for a bit. Me and my mates are going out for a drink later and I wondered if you four wanted to come? I noticed things getting a bit edgy down there."

Ed, Sirius thought, seemed a lot more perceptive than Peter. Though hopefully not perceptive enough to guess his and Remus's secret.

"We'd be happy to," Remus answered for both of them, his voice warm with relief at the thought of escaping for a few hours.

"Right. Good. Well… later then." The door clicked behind him.

"D'you think he knows?" Sirius asked. He didn't have to specify what he meant.

"I'm not sure. Why didn't Peter tell us he had a disturbingly observant cousin?"

"Much as I love Pete, he's about as observant as an earthworm. He probably didn't notice."

"Sirius, that's cruel."

"But true. I guess we'll just have to see how this pans out. I hate to say it, but I'm really looking forward to getting back to school. This has been one hell of a Christmas."

"Right with you on that one," Remus said gloomily.


	64. Dark Mark Over Terrace Houses

REMUS:

**Disclaimer: Still not mine**

**Thank you for being so patient. I know this has taken an unforgivably long time to update. But to make up for it, Hitkugutso drew an absolutely gorgeous pic for chapter 63: **

**http :// hitokugutsu. /art/Cracked- 98199779 **

**(Take out the spaces and copy and paste link)**

**Moonsign x**

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**REMUS:**

Remus stood in front of the Mirror and felt his stomach plummet to his feet. "Sirius Orion Black, this is the worst idea you've had since that time you dressed Wormtail up as Little Red Riding Hood and made him go knocking on the Slytherin's portrait hole to sell them homemade mince pies laced with illegal potions." He tugged uncomfortably at his trousers. "Worse, in fact, since Operation Little Red Riding Hood actually worked until the other Slytherins noticed Evan Rosier turning into a small pink elephant on a bicycle."

"Ah, classic!" Sirius said, a reminiscent gleam in his eye. "Anyway, I don't know what you're complaining about, Moony. You look so gorgeous. I want to get into your pants right now."

"You wouldn't fit with me in here already." Remus tried to lever the waistband away from his abused stomach. "Even _I _don't fit with me in here already. I told you, these are about five sizes too small. And the leather chafes."

"They're supposed to be tight. That's the whole idea."

"And I'm sure you can see my scars through this shirt."

Sirius went over and stood beside Remus in front of the mirror. "I think your scars are sexy. Besides, they're not nearly as bad as they used to be now you're using the scar potion." He tilted his head. "You can't see them unless you're actually looking for them anyway. You'd have to be as close to you as I am and no one, but me, is allowed that."

"I'm not sure purple is my colour." Remus started pull off the shirt, but Sirius reached out to stop him.

"Number one, it's indigo, not purple. And number two, I went to all the effort of buying you this muggle outfit, and you don't even want to wear it?"

"It's the outfit of a muggle prostitute!"

The door to Peter's room banged open and James sauntered in. "Alright, lads? I – _good MERLIN, Moony!_"

"See!" Remus snapped to Sirius, hastily tugging on his shirt.

"I suddenly see what you see in him, Padfoot," James said to Sirius, still gaping. "I didn't know our Moony was hot."

"He's mine, Potter - hands off!" Remus was distracted from his efforts to peel off his shirt by Sirius grabbing him and dragging him against his chest.

"I'm straight, Black." James rolled his eyes. "I'm in love with Evans. But even a straight guy can see Moony looks good in that outfit."

"You didn't _sound _straight just then," Sirius muttered.

"What are you talking about?" Remus struggled against Sirius. "I'm wearing the skin of a very, very small cow and a shirt made out of a purple mosquito net!"

"And it looks gorgeous on you, babe," Sirius said, planting a kiss on the top of Remus's head, and then doubling over as Remus kneed him in the groin. "_Moony!_"

"I don't want to go to the stupid club tonight," Remus said miserably, flopping back onto Peter's bed. "Everyone will be looking at me funny."

"Aw, come on Moony," James wheedled. "Don't be a spoilsport."

"Besides, I've got one other thing to complete your outfit," Sirius said, sitting down beside Remus and reaching out to pull the smaller boy against his side. In spite of himself, Remus felt himself curl in to the crook of Sirius's arm – or as much as the leather trousers allowed him to curl anyway.

"What is it?" he mumbled. "A riding crop? A whip?"

"Nope!" Sirius stood up and rummaged around in his bag again, pulling out another mass of black leather. Remus groaned.

"No, no! Look Moony, it's a jacket."

It _was_ a jacket. A butter-soft, knee-length leather jacket cut in a style that was very reminiscent of wizarding robes. Remus felt himself sag in relief and grabbed the jacket from Sirius, pulling it on and feeling grateful for the familiar way it swung and settled around him.

"_This_, I like," he said, standing in front of the mirror and feeling smug at how much of the hideous shirt and trousers it covered.

"I'm not a completely oblivious idiot," Sirius said. "And I wanted you to feel comfortable. Just wait until you see my outfit."

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Sirius's outfit was everything he promised. Flared black jeans, a glittery blue shirt that made Remus's look conservative, his short, black motorcycling jacket and…

"What on earth it _that!_" Remus demanded, pointing an accusing finger at Sirius's left earlobe which looked slightly reddened and sported a silver hoop.

Sirius dipped his head, grinning at Remus through the glossy black fringe that slipped elegantly into his eyes. "An earring."

Remus tried to ignore how attractive he looked and frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "And how did you get an _earring_, may I ask? It wasn't there earlier." He sniffed. "It's new. I can smell the blood."

"Ergh, _Moony!_" Peter groaned, looking up from where he was standing in front of the mirror trying to make his fluffy sandy-blonde hair look 'cool'.

"Well, I can!"

"Prongs did it for me," Sirius said, his grin not faltering a bit.

"You let _James Potter_, idiot extraordinaire, near your vulnerable face with a _needle_, and permission to stab you with it?" Remus sometimes wondered what he was doing in Gryffindor. He knew he would never have the kind of easy, careless recklessness displayed by the House's two golden boys.

"Nope, I let him near my _ear_ with his _wand_ and permission to use a piercing charm we found in a book at his house."

"Merlin's blessed armpit, Sirius, are you _insane_!"

Sirius blurred into Padfoot, launched himself at Remus, slicked his large, pink tongue all the way up one side of the boy's face, then changed back and bounded out of the room and down the stairs. "Come on lads, we'll be late!"

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"I thought the whole reason we were putting ourselves through muggle-club-hell was to get _away _from the miniskirt brigade!" Remus hissed to the other Marauders, as they trailed down a muggle street in the direction of the club. "Why are they tagging along? The one in the pink heels keeps eyeing me up."

"Sorry, Moony," Peter said, moving to block the-one-in-the-pink-heels's line of sight with his generous frame. "Mum insisted."

"They _all _keep eyeing you up," James said to Remus, looking rather put out. "You and Padfoot. It's completely unfair. You guys aren't even interested. You should have worn boring conservative clothes and left the ladies to me and Pete."

"I've got a girlfriend," Peter pointed out.

"Me then. They could keep me from getting lonely while I wait for Evans to come round."

"How sweet," Sirius said, slinging a casual arm over James's shoulders. "You can natter away together in your old-people's home, and cheat at bingo and reminisce about the good-ol'-days."

"_Not_ funny, Black. Ooh – there it is!"

Remus had never been to a muggle club and decided about ten minutes in that he would never go to one again. The flashing lights, the ridiculously loud, violent music and the mingling smells of sweat, perfume, cigarette smoke and beer were a painful barrage on his acute werewolf senses. He huddled on a chair at the edge of the massive room and wished he were back in the comforting warmth of the Gryffindor tower surrounded by his pack and old background buzz of magic that permeated Hogwarts's walls.

Of course, James and Sirius had no such reservations. "_Please_ come and dance, Moony!" Sirius begged, employing puppy-dog eyes in an underhand tactic. "It's not like anyone will guess about us. All you have to do it stand around with your mates, jigging up and down, and doing this weird hand thing." In a fluid movement, he raised his right hand to point at the ceiling, and then swished it down to point at the left side of the floor before repeating the movement again. Remus wondered how he could manage to make such a ridiculous dance move look so attractive.

"I don't want to," he told Sirius. "The music hurts my ears and the smell makes me sick."

Sirius bent closer to look at him. "You're really not having fun, are you?"

Remus felt a stab of guilt. "No, I'm fine. I just want to sit here. You go off and dance."

"But – "

"Really, Padfoot. I'm fine, I promise."

Sirius gave him one last concerned look, before heading back to the dance floor. Remus sat and watched as Sirius began to lighten up again as he danced. For someone who only ever hit the right note by accident when he sung, he danced unbelievably musically. His lithe body seemed to absorb the music and replay it again through movement and Remus felt the first stirring of arousal as he watched.

A low growl and warning hunch of his shoulders ensured that, no matter how much they eyed him up, girls didn't bother Remus all evening. Sirius, however, was another story. Remus could see him becoming more and more tense and frustrated as the girls wound round him and tried to rub up against him as he danced

"Alright, mate?"

Remus jumped at the voice. That was another reason why he hated this place. He couldn't smell people approaching over the already-cloying scents of perfume, sweat and smoke. He turned to look at Belching Ed, who was leaning casually against the wall with his ankles crossed. True to form, he let out a loud, resounding burp and accessorised it with a wink when he had Remus's attention.

"You got a bit 'o drool, Lupin. Right there." He pointed to the corner of Remus's mouth, then sent a meaningful look at Sirius.

Remus, also true to form, flushed Gryffindor scarlet and slapped his hand to his mouth. Ed snorted with laughter. "It's a turn of phrase, mate - to subtly tell you you're gaping."

Remus felt himself flush even more hotly and turned his best glower on the other young man. It must have had a touch of the wolf in it, because Ed raised his hands defensively.

"Just trying to help, Lupin." He paused and looked out to where Sirius was not so much dancing as doing and intricate arm movement designed to fend off as many girls as possible at one time. "Does he know?"

"Know what?" Remus asked, scowling as one of the girls got past Sriius's defences and planted a flirtatious kiss on his cheek.

Ed rolled his eyes. "And Pete told me you were the smart one. How you _feel _about him, of course!"

Remus opened his mouth to retort that it was none of anyone's business, especially anyone who took up belching the 'God Save the Queen' as a full time hobby, but was interrupted by a frustrated bellow from Sirius direction.

"Merlin's _balls_, can't you stupid bints _take a HINT_!" Remus watched with a feeling of impending doom as Sirius shoved the nearest girl away from him roughly, and stalked up to where he was sitting huddled in his chair against the wall.

"Sirius, I really don't think we should –" He broke off as Sirius looped his arm around Remus's waist, hauled his slighter frame upright and into his arms, and then proceeded to dip him back into a kiss so dramatic, it was practically Shakespearean.

Remus wished he could say the world seemed to shrink and disappear around them as the kiss overtook all his senses. Sadly, though, he was all too aware of a number of things.

This position was making him feel like someone was trying to turn his spine into a pretzel.

Sirius tasted like second-hand beer and cigarettes, though Remus had no idea where he had managed to get them, or when he had had time to smoke them.

The dancing around them had come to a halt and the air was filled with catcalls, wolf whistles, suggestions that they get a room/ find a gay bar/ were dirty perverts headed for hell and a range of other, on the whole, rather unflattering comments.

Sirius ended the kiss with a flourish and set Remus back on his feet where he swayed unsteadily while his vertebrae tried to realign.

"I'll take that as a yes, then," Ed said from behind Remus. He belched the word 'yes' for emphasis.

Twenty minutes later, after a short but firm dressing-down by the management for 'causing an unseemly disturbance' when Sirius threatened to hex a man who called him a raging fruitcake, the four Marauders found themselves black-listed and exiled from the club and strolling back to the Pettigrew house in the chilly winter air down quiet night time streets.

"You've got to admit it was worth it," Sirius said, "If only for the expressions on the faces of the miniskirt-brigade."

"I didn't like that club anyway," Remus said. "It smelled bad, and I'm sure someone called me a leather-wearing nancy as we left."

"Well, I liked it," Peter said gloomily. "It was the only fun place I had to go during the holidays and now I can never go back. I can't think why I invited you guys. You're just lucky they only tossed us four out and not the others. Sheryl and Ed would have killed you."

"Sorry, mate," Sirius said, looking genuinely apologetic. Remus guessed he was thinking of all the times he had longed for a place to escape to when he was at his own family house. "Though you didn't have to claim responsibility for us."

"I _was_ responsible for you. I should never have let you out among normal people."

"Still," said James, "The first rule of being a Marauder is to act innocent until proven guilty, and even after that, if you can get away with it. After all – "

_CRACK!_

All four boys jumped at the sound and swung round to face the direction it came from. They were walking down a rather grimy street, lined by the kind of slap-dash terrace houses thrown up after World War II, just to keep people off the streets. Apparently, nobody had ever got around to replacing them with better structures. The street was lit by the watery orange glow of street lamps, and the loud crack had come from the gaping mouth of a nearby alley leading to and even poorer area of town.

"I'm sure it's nothing," James hissed. "Just someone apparating."

"It's all muggles round here, I think," Peter told him. "It's more likely to have been a muggle gun. This area is properly dodgy." His eyes flicked nervously around and his nose twitched in apprehension. It was the most like his animagus animal that Remus had ever seen him in human form. "We should get out of here. There aren't many spells that can protect a wizard against a gun. Not unless you're really powerful."

"But someone might be hurt," Sirius said. "They might be shot."

"You can't be a hero if you're _dead_." Peter was looking more and more frightened. "You can't just saunter in there."

Remus suddenly heard an odd sound coming from the alley, and he tilted his head towards it, straining his acute hearing. "Shut up a minute, lads," he whispered.

The others, picking up on Remus in wolf-sensing-mode, immediately stopped talking. Remus took a step towards the alley.

"Moony!" Sirius grabbed his arm. "Don't!"

Remus shook him off. Yes, there it was again, a small, pitiful little sniffle. "There's someone in there. Crying. I think it's a child."

"I really don't think you should go in there, mate," James said. By now, even he and Sirius were beginning to look apprehensive.

Remus ignored them, ducked Sirius's grabbing arm, and crept into the alley, all his senses alert. It was only rarely that he used his extra senses in this way. He didn't like to bring Moony this close to the surface, but the soft, childlike whimpers and sniffles drew him inexorably on. Of course, the other Marauders, always reckless and fiercely loyal, followed him in, even though he could smell Peter sweating profusely in fear.

Then Remus smelled clearly what was in the alley and froze himself, his heart hammering. Sirius, protectively close to him, couldn't see him stopping and ploughed straight into him.

"What is it, Moony?" He whispered urgently. At the sound of his voice, a high childish voice gave a shriek of terror and there was a rustling sound as something small tried to shuffle away from them.

Remus couldn't answer. His noise was filled not only with the sharp, ice-lemon scent of fear, but also with the thick, sweetish, overripe odour of death, accompanied by oily overtones of powerful dark magic. He swore softly, then pulled out his wand and muttered, "_Lumos," _dreading what he would see.

Crouched beside a battered wheelie bin was a tiny girl of no more than five or six. She was huddled against the massive plastic bulk of the bin, her little hands clutched around the bulkier arm of an adult woman. Remus's eyes confirmed what his nose had been telling him. The woman was dead – her body lifeless, her mouth gaping, her eyes wide and stretched into an expression of mixed anguish and defiance. There were no marks on her body.

"_Avada Kedavra,_" Sirius murmured, too softly for the child to hear. "I can feel the dirtiness of the magic in my teeth." A small part of Remus's shocked mind was once again surprised at how attuned purebloods were to the small nuances of magic. Something to do with growing up in such a magical environment, or something in the blood, he wasn't sure.

"W-we should really get out of here," Peter stuttered.

"There's been no one else here," Remus told him, as he crouched down in front of the little girl. "I think she actually managed to apparate them out from wherever they were with accidental magic, didn't you, lass?"

The child just sobbed and clutched what Remus assumed was her mother's arm closer. Peter tried to be unobtrusive as he vomited onto the cobbles on the other side of the wheelie bin.

Sirius crouched down beside Remus, his eyes averted from the corpse. "It's okay. We won't hurt you. We're from Hogwarts."

At the word 'Hogwarts', the girl raised eyes filled with awful, frightened hope. "'Warts?" she hiccupped.

"Yes," Remus said, seizing on this small breakthrough, and feeling incredibly grateful for the wizarding school's famous name. "Hogwarts. We'll take care of you, okay?"

"Dum'dore?" she sniffled.

The Marauders exchanged glances. This child knew Dumbledore? That might explain why her family had been targeted for attack.

"Yes. We'll take you to Dumbledore. Come on." Remus held out his arms and the child clutched her mother's lifeless body closer. Remus began to feel desperate. "Listen, we'll send someone back for her, okay? You need to come with us now. Look, you can hold Hamish."

He dug into the voluminous pocket of his new leather coat and drew out the nervous-looking hedgehog. Hamish had been in a magical environment long enough to feel uncomfortable around dark magic. His spikes had also been charmed different colours so many times that they were beginning to do it on their own, like a chameleon – though they had a tendency to revert to red and gold at odd moments. Today he was indigo and black to match Remus's outfit.

"'edge'og," the child sniffed, and loosened her grip to reach out and stroke Hamish's head.

"I can't believe you brought your hedgehog out clubbing with you," Sirius hissed.

"He makes me feel braver," Remus said, feeling defensive.

"_Not_ the point here, lads," James interrupted, looking round with alert eyes, his wand in his hand. "We should get out of here as soon as possible."

"What's your name?" Remus asked the girl.

"Rowen." she looked oddly calmed by Hamish who batted at her little hand with his head.

"Come on, Rowen." Remus bent down and scooped her unresisting form into his arms, Hamish resting on her stomach.

"Mum!" She reached out to the dead woman and Peter retched again. Remus felt dizzy and sick, remembering for a brief moment, seeing his own mother's torn corpse. This little girl would see thestrals, too.

"Dumbledore will send someone back for her," he assured her. "We have to get you somewhere safe now, hm?"

She remained tense in his arms as they left the alley, all of them on high alert. They half-jogged in the direction of Peter's house, desperate to get inside as soon as possible. It was when they were two streets away from the alley that they saw Rowen's house.

"Oh, Merlin's balls, look there," James hissed, backing up rapidly after he had turned a corner. Remus, Sirius and Peter peered round the corner to where he was pointing. It was one little terrace house, that had once looked exactly the same as all the others on the row. Now the street outside was lined with muggle police cars and nosy neighbours. The front door was blasted aside, the frame blackened by a powerful blasting curse. What really caught Remus's eye, however, was the giant, spectral skull that hung malevolently in the sky over the house. A shimmering snake writhed and wriggled from its grinning jaws like hideous, demonic tongue.

"The dark mark," Sirius breathed, staring at it in fascinated horror. The pictures the _Daily Prophet_ had printed were nothing compared to the real thing. Remus knew it for certain then. It had been Death Eaters who attacked Rowen's family.

James swore softly as Rowen began to tremble and cry again. "We need to find another way home, Pete. Quick as you can."

Peter nodded, looking nauseated and unable to speak. He turned back the way they had come and they set off at an even faster pace in a different direction.

It was one of the longest journeys Remus had ever made, even though it was really only twenty minutes to Peter's house. Rowen wriggled and cried in his arms, while Hamish scrabbled on her stomach. The other three kept gasping, "Hurry, hurry!" as though they weren't already pelting down the streets like all the hounds of hell were after them.

They burst into the front door, startling Mr. and Mrs. Pettigrew who were watching TV in the lounge.

"Good heavens, boys. What is it?" said Mr. Pettigrew, launching himself to his feet when he saw their faces. He caught sight of Rowen. "And who is this?"

It took quite a while for the Pettigrews to untangle their meandering and slightly hysterical explanations. It didn't help that Rowen was positively howling by this point, still seated in Remus's lap, her arms clutched tightly round a resigned-looking Hamish.

Mr. and Mrs. Pettigrew looked shell-shocked when they finally figured out what the story was. Remus felt a wave of dizziness sweep over him when they told the Marauders that Rowen's parents had been a half-blood and a muggleborn - a few years behind the Pettigrews at Hogwarts. That small amount of information turned them into real people – with pasts and lives and hopes – rather than a nameless corpse in an alley. A small, but niggling voice in his brain kept thinking of the Anders' missing money. Had they helped to fund this – consciously or unconsciously?

As Mrs. Pettigrew scurried round, sniffing and shaking and making tea, Mr. Pettigrew - apparently much more capable than his wife in stressful situations - contacted Dumbledore who floo'd over immediately. It was completely surreal, Remus thought dazedly, seeing Dumbledore standing in this muggle lounge in his violet and magenta robes, an unusually serious and stern expression on his face as he listened to Mr. Pettigrew.

Rowen had launched herself at him as soon as he arrived, burying her face in his robes and breaking into renewed sobs. She didn't even look up when Dumbledore cast a spell that sent a large, silver phoenix shooting from his wand and out of the window.

"You lads go upstairs," Mr. Pettigrew said, shooing the Marauders away when the lounge became uncomfortably full of people. "This is important and private business, and we need you out of the way."

One look at Dumbledore's stormy face, and the Marauders didn't even think of arguing. They headed up stairs and huddled on the landing, straining their ears to hear what was going on downstairs.

"What are they saying, Moony?" Sirius asked, clutching his hand as Remus closed his eyes and strained his powerful hearing towards the conversation.

"I can't make out everything. Someone else has floo'd in and Wormtail's parents have gone into the kitchen. They're talking about the attack – something about Death Eaters and…a mission or something…he said something about an Order."

"An order? Like for something to be delivered?" James asked.

Remus frowned, concentrating. "No, I think more like a society or something. This new guy, Muddy or Moody or something, is 'from the Order'."

"Like a religious order?" Peter asked.

"Like a secret society, more like," James said. "I remember Dad saying something about it to Mum once when they thought I was outside. I think it's something to do with Dumbledore. A secret society he has to fight dark wizards."

"Are you serious?" Remus asked. "A real secret society?"

"Yeah, because the Ministry is so useless. I bet Rowen's parents were members and knew something important. Voldemort must have found out and attacked them."

The whole situation was getting bigger and more frightening by the minute, Remus thought. It went from being chucked from a club for being rowdy to secret societies and Dark Lords and plots of revenge and murder.

This wasn't just a silly Marauder risk anymore. This was the real world with real magic and real danger. He felt like they'd been shoved roughly down a path that led away from being children to being young men. Instead of feeling an innate desire to let the grownups handle things he now felt – and knew his friends did, too – that he had to help in some way.

"This is for real," Peter murmured, looking shell shocked.

"Yeah," James agreed shakily. "I have a horrible feeling that this isn't the end of it for us."


	65. Freedom of the Wolf

**Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and the Marauders belongs to JK Rowling**

**New chapter that I hope you all enjoy! Much love and thanks for all the reviews, and I'm sorry for those of you I haven't had the time to reply to I am always eternally grateful. **

**Moonsign x**

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**SIRIUS:**

It was strange how differently the event with Rowen and her dead mother affected each of the Marauders. Sirius knew, from listening to his nightmares in the few nights following, that Remus was thinking of his mother. Sirius could see the parallels between Rowen's and Remus's childhood experiences and he ached with helpless sympathy.

It had taken him a long time to wheedle the whole story of the night Remus was bitten from him, and when Remus finally broken and told him, Sirius had felt horribly guilty to have forced someone he loved so much to relive such an experience. He could see it now – the way Remus had stared down at his mother's torn, bloody body: exposed tendons and bones, spilling, pooling blood and watched her die. It was as unimaginable to Sirius as having to watch one of the Marauders die – to know that this was it. You would never ever speak to this person again. Never see them smile or cry or shout or even look at you.

But Remus, and now little Rowen as well, had clung to the cooling corpses of their mothers and watched as the path of their short lives exploded in front of them and shattered into a thousand pieces. And even when they were reassembled, they would never resemble what they had before – put together now, but still, to a certain extent, irreparably broken.

Peter, on the other hand, had reacted in a completely different way. Sirius always knew the chubby boy wasn't the most lion-hearted Gryffindor around. He had his own form of loyalty and bravery that got him into Gryffindor house, but it was different to that of his friends. He now developed a nervous twitch in the muscles of his shoulders and jumped violently at sudden noises.

Sirius knew that the image of Rowen's mother's corpse had lodged itself firmly in Peter's brain. When he had gone down to breakfast the next morning to see Mrs. Pettigrew cooking bacon, he had raced back out to the bathroom and vomited violently and extensively.

"She's cooking a _corpse_," he mumbled to the other Marauders who hovered around him anxiously. "She's burning the _flesh_ of a _corpse _and then we _eat _it." He vomited again and collapsed against the wall.

Of all the things Sirius had expected to result from the Rowen-Incident, Peter's involuntary vegetarianism was not one of them.

For Sirius and James, the knowledge of the developing war and of a secret society to fight dark wizards had lit a fire of rash heroism and determination in their bellies.

When Remus cried out in his sleep, twisted in his sleeping bag on Peter's floor and reaching thin fingers out to grasp at Sirius's warmth, Sirius knew he would do anything in his power to save people from having to suffer the same damage as Remus and Rowen had undergone in their lives.

He held Remus to his chest and looked over his tawny head to see James leaning up on his elbow, watching them. James raised his head to meet Sirius's eyes and even in the dim light of the streetlamp outside the window, Sirius could see the matching fire there.

_We can be heroes, _he thought, and saw same reckless determination on his best friend's face. _Yes, we can be heroes and protect people like Remus and Peter and Rowen. We'll fight this war and win it, and we'll show everyone what Gryffindors can do. And afterwards they'll write about us in history books and we'll be remembered for our bravery. _

James was his brother in everything but blood, and Sirius saw the understanding in his face. It was surprising how noble James could look, even when his hair was so wild he resembled a black chrysanthemum and his glasses had been shoved on sleepily and lopsidedly, so they slipped to the end of his nose. He looked at Sirius with a solemn expression and gave a short nod. 

_We'll be invincible, you and I. We'll be heroes. _

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The Christmas holiday spirit had definitely left the Pettigrew house. The last week and a half before school dragged slowly for all of them except Remus, who had a transformation the night they got back. He was typically restless and paced up and down Peter's room like a trapped animal as the moon drew near.

Sirius longed to be able to take him out and allow him to forget for a while, but Peter had obviously inherited his nervous nature from his parents because they had banned the boys from leaving the house again on their own until school started. It didn't help that every time he and Remus were seen together Sheryl and her friends giggled insanely and Ed eyed them with a closed, though not hostile, expression. After seeing the way the looks upset Remus in his current state, Sirius regretted his rash action at the club and wished that for just _once_ in his life he had thought before reacting.

And then there was James and Peter as well, who seemed to be avoiding touching Sirius and Remus at all when they were around other people: None of James's and Sirius's usual roughhousing, or cuffs round the head, or friendly arms around the shoulder. Some deep part of Sirius knew it was because now that people knew about his and Remus's relationship, the other two Marauders just had the instinctive straight-man urge to make sure no one mistook them for being anything more than friends.

He _knew _it wasn't deliberate, or meant to hurt, but he couldn't help but feel a sharp twinge of betrayal when James sidestepped a friendly shoulder-clap, his eyes flicking to Sheryl and her friends who were perched on the sofa in front of the TV. Sirius couldn't help the flinch and flash of hurt, and saw an answering flash of guilt in James's eyes. He didn't move any closer, though.

"It's not that they don't accept us," Remus murmured later that night as they stood side-by-side brushing their teeth in the Pettigrews' little bathroom. "It's just that they don't want people to think they're gay."

"They shouldn't _care_!" Sirius said, spitting so violently his toothpaste foam flecked the mirror. "They should stand by us no matter what!"

"They're sixteen-year-old boys. They can't help feeling awkward and embarrassed. They'll be back to normal once we're at school."

"We're the same age. What's the difference?"

Remus sighed and rinsed his toothbrush, and Sirius knew that the hand that appeared to be resting casually on the edge of the sink was really holding his exhausted body upright.

"Sorry, Moony." He slipped his arm around the smaller boy's waist and pressed his forehead into Remus's neck. "It just reminds me of what happened with Regulus."

"I know, Padfoot. But you also know James would never betray you when it really mattered."

Sirius did know that. But he also knew that the sum of hundreds of little betrayals sometimes hurt worse than one big one.

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When the first day of term finally arrived, the boys piled into the Pettigrew's battered Rover with relief. Sirius remained close to Remus throughout the journey, knowing that the other boy was really not up to the long trip from London to Scotland the day of the moon, especially since they had to drive to London from Kent first.

As Remus drooped against him in the back, Sirius exchanged worried glances with James and Peter over the werewolf's head. They all knew it would be a rough moon this month. Remus and the wolf had been worked up for days now.

"Alright Moony?" Sirius said a couple of hours later, knowing his voice sounded overly cheerful as he helped Remus into the train. Remus swayed in answer and drooped a bit more. Sirius sighed and tightened his grip around Remus waist. He didn't even worry that anyone would guess about their relationship. It was quite clear to anyone watching that Remus would struggle to stand up on his own. He wished James and Peter were there to help him, but they were busy distracting the Pettigrew parents from noticing Remus's condition.

Suddenly a new arm snaked around Remus's waist. A pale, slightly freckled and feminine arm. Sirius looked up into brilliant green eyes. He sighed. Lily Evans - as if the day couldn't get any worse. Still, he wasn't going to turn down help from someone who knew about Remus's condition and wouldn't ask awkward questions.

"Thanks," he muttered grudgingly, as they half-carried Remus to the nearest train compartment.

"I'm not doing it for you, Black," she said, her voice tart. "I'm doing it for Remus."

"'Course you are," Sirius snapped. "But he's not exactly in a position to thank you right now, is he?"

"Sirius," Remus murmured as he slumped onto the seat. "Shut up."

Sirius shut up and glowered at Lily who showed no signs of leaving. "I read in the prophet that you guys found that little girl whose family was killed," she said. Sirius wanted to yell at her for bringing the subject up, but there was something urgent and haunted in her expression, and some part of him couldn't help remembering the way she had helped him and Remus get together - no judging, no girly giggles or squeals.

"Yes," he said.

"I'm sorry. That must have been really awful for you."

Sirius sat down beside Remus who dropped his head down into his shoulder. He lightly touched Remus's restless, twisting hands. "We've had worse"

Lily pursed her lips and looked at him. "I hate the fact that I believe you."

Sirius, shrugged and looked out the window, not really concentrating on what he was seeing - more aware of the way Remus's muscles tremored against him with minute spasms as they prepared for his transformation. He wished he could tell Lily to leave so they could be alone and relax for a while. Lily obviously had other ideas, and moved to perch stiffly on the seat opposite them.

"So what happened?" she blurted, when the silence had reached an uncomfortable length that Sirius had no intention of breaking. "Did the Death Eaters just come in and attack for no reason? Did they just out and kill a whole family without giving them a chance to retaliate? Why did the Aurors not _stop _them?"

Sirius felt Remus tense against him and a bubble of anger swelled and burst in his belly. "Merin's _sake_, Evans! Can't you just forget your morbid fascination for two seconds and think about other people's feelings for once?"

Lily flinched and her head dropped forward, causing a sheet of flame-red hair to swing in front of her face. For the first time Sirius noticed it looked more bedraggled and less vibrant than usual. When Lily peered up at him through her fringe, he noticed that her eyes were ringed in dark smudgy circles.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "It's just…"

"Just what?" It was Remus who had spoken, opening his eyes to look at Lily's drawn face with wan concern. "You don't look well, Lily. What's the matter?"

Lily dropped her face into her hands. "I don't know how I'm supposed to protect them when I'm at school!" She raised her head and her green eyes were gem-bright with tears. "I was learning ways over Christmas - you know, reading defence books and staying up at night to make sure no one sneaked in But now I'm gone and I don't know how I'm supposed to protect them now!"

"Protect who?" Sirius asked, feeling though he had been left flailing in confusion at some point in the conversation.

"My family, of course!" Lily glared at him, somehow managing to look upset and superior at the same time. "God, Black, for someone so intelligent, you're really a bit slow sometimes. The attacks have been targeting Muggleborns and their families."

_Oh. _Sirius suddenly felt incredibly heartless. He had no idea what to say to Lily. He thought about James's parents - caring and embarrassing and everything parents should be, and then imagined how scared he would be if they were Muggles and had no way to protect themselves.

"I'm really sorry, Lily," said Remus, who even in this state seemed to know the right thing to say. "But if it's any consolation, I think they're mainly targeting those Muggleborn families who are involved in fighting against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. I know it's not much."

Lily, looking tearful, but fighting womanfully against showing it, nodded miserably.

Sirius cleared his throat awkwardly. "You could ask Dumbledore for help," He suggested. "I don't know if you know this, but he defeated the dark wizard, Grindlewald, and we heard over the holidays that he had a secret society that fights against dark wizards when the Ministry aren't doing enough."

Lily sniffed and straightened her shoulders. "Yeah, I remember reading about it," she said. "Yes, that's what I'll do. He'll help me, won't he?"

Sirius opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by the door to the carriage being flung open and James and Peter swaggering in. James face lit up when he saw Lily.

"Evans! Finally given into my charms?"

Lily stiffened, and her face – which had been open and vulnerable a few seconds before – closed up primly. "In your dreams, Potter." She stood up and shoved past James and out of the compartment door.

James stood in the doorway looking ego-bruised and wistful. Sirius suddenly realised that he wasn't quite as unaffected by Lily's continual refusals as he liked to appear.

"Must you, Prongs?" Remus murmured, turning his face into Sirius's shoulder.

"Must I what?" James dropped sulkily onto the seat opposite them, propping his legs up beside Sirius's right hip in a careless way he wouldn't have done in the last tense weeks at the Pettigrew house. "I didn't say anything wrong."

"You were a bit…you know… coarse," Peter ventured.

"It was a _joke_!" James crossed his armed and slumped down scowling in his seat. "Merlin, Wormtail, you really are thick sometimes."

Peter looked hurt and ducked his head as he sat. Sirius couldn't help wishing he had a bit more backbone.

"He didn't mean it like that, James, and you know it." Remus sounded firm for the first time that day. "He just meant that you can't treat girls like that if you really expect them to go out with you."

"Oh, what would _you_ know? You're a bloody pouf!" James snapped.

There were only a few seconds between James realising he had gone too far, Remus flinching back in his seat, and Sirius's fist colliding hard with his best friend's jaw. There was a sharp pain in Sirius's shin as James kicked him back There was a brief blur of colour and fury as the two of them launched themselves at each other – punching, kicking, scratching – in a fight that was half childish, half adult and all pent-up, frightened, helpless, frustrated fury. Everything that had been worrying and upsetting Sirius for the last few weeks was released in the blows he rained down on James's head, shoulders and chest, even as he tried to avoid the punches laid on him in turn.

It was only when they were both exhausted and thoroughly bruised that they collapsed together on the floor and Sirius started laughing. As always, he was unable to help himself because everything was just so _ridiculously _messed up and unfixable and grown-up, and James yelled at him to _stop,_ damn it! And _didn't he realise this was serious!_

And then they were hugging – not manly slap-on-the-back and mates-arm-around-my-shoulder, but an I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-brotherly hug, which James vocalised with mumbled apologies into Sirius's ear, along with a fair amount of blood and drool from his punched nose and mouth.

And it was a mark of how well the Marauders knew each other that neither Remus nor Peter had interfered in the fight at all.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

After arriving back at school that evening, none of them had felt like going to the first dinner back and – telling one another it was to help aid Remus's cover story – spent the evening leading up to moonrise hanging round the hospital wing and generally getting under Madame Pomfrey's feet and on her nerves.

When it was time for her to help Remus to the passage under the Whomping Willow, they pretended to head back to the Gryffindor Tower, while really hanging round in the Hospital Wing corridor with Peter in rat form and Sirius and James squeezed under the invisibility cloak.

Sirius, feeling worried, nervous and upset, decided to vent some of his frustration on James, and pressed even closer to his friend under the cover of the cloak.

"What are you doing?" James hissed, then let out an unmanly squeak as Sirius reached down and pinched his arse with vicious fingers. "What the _f – _"

"Have we ever done anything like that before?" Sirius hissed, interrupting his protest. He was glad the corridor was empty because James had leapt away from him, half-out from under the cloak.

"What in the name of Merlin's _balls _did you do that for?" James, looking disturbed and worried, stepped back, narrowly missing the chubby little rat who crouched watching them from the edge of the corridor.

"It surprised you, didn't it? 'Cos we don't treat you like that, do we?"

"Not until now, you didn't," James mumbled, rubbing his behind and looking put out.

"So why did you treat us like lepers at the Pettigrew's house? They all _knew _about us, and we could have really done with some support, but instead you just backed away and left us to it."

"We didn't back away," James protested. "We were there all the time. Right, Pete?"

Wormtail nodded his head, little round ears shifting nervously.

"You know what I mean." Sirius pressed his lips together, aware of the glamoured bruises that still littered his body from their earlier fight. "It wasn't on, mate. I would have stood by you through anything. You know that. And Moony was upset by it as well." James ducked his head guiltily. It was one of the Marauders' main, but unwritten rules to make sure that no one upset Remus. And also that Remus should never find out about this rule.

"I said I'm sorry, mate," James mumbled. "It's just that they were all looking at me and I could see them wondering and I just…you know. I didn't want them thinking I was…not that it's _bad_ you know. It's just that I'm _not_ and…"

Sirius took pity on him. "Just…don't. Okay? It wasn't just…I mean, I felt..." _Betrayed. Like another brother was ditching me for something I can't help. _"It's just not on."

"I know, mate. And I really am sorry."

There was a long, awkward silence and Wormtail gave a worried squeak, like a trodden-on dog toy. Then James – who by now had slipped out completely from under the cloak reached out and tugged it from around Sirius and pulled him into another one of those hugs. He didn't try to hold himself away from Sirius as another sixteen-year-old boy might have, and instead reached up to ruffle Sirius's hair. Sirius heard the words James stubborn teenage masculinity wouldn't allow him to say. _I'd never betray you. And I'm not disgusted by you. I love you._

It was over very quickly and they stepped apart, both feeling abashed. Sirius coughed, making sure his voice sounded deep and grown up, and James reached up to scratch his chin in the way Sirius by now recognised as him checking his newly sprouting stubble to reassure himself of manliness.

"So anyway," Sirius said, rather embarrassed by the whole affair. "Moon should on its way up, eh?"

"Moony – right. Come under here, then and keep your hands to yourself, please. This arse is the property of one Lily Evans."

"You'd better give her the receipt when you offer it as a gift to her then," Sirius told him, slipping under the cloak and heading for the door outside. "I reckon she might want to exchange it."

"Git."

"Tosser."

"SQUEEeee_eep!_"

"Nice one, Wormtail."

"Where _did _a nice rat like you learn such language anyway?"

"Ee-eep!"

"Ah, that explains it. I told you dating a Ravenclaw bint with a moustache was a bad idea. They always have hidden kinks. Here, move out the way, Pomfrey's coming back."

A few minutes later the Whomping Willow froze again. It was followed half an hour later by a gut wrenching howl that echoed over Hogsmeade like a verbalisation of what true pain would sound like if it had a voice.

Then, after two hours of incessant howling, it stopped abruptly, and if any of Hogsmeade's cowering residence had chosen to look, they would have seen three large shapes emerging from the Shrieking Shack, a smaller shape perched between the horns of the one that was a massive stag.

The most primal and vicious of the animals rose its head, sniffing the wind, before making a lunge towards the sprawling mass of Hogsmeade set into the valley at the bottom of the hill. The stag and the large grim-like dog struggled to herd it away from the village and towards the shadows of the Forbidden Forest. After a few abortive attempts at getting round them, the wolf gave in and bounded after the dog with a joyful yip and puppy-like enthusiasm as, for the first time in eleven years, it was allowed to run free under the full moon, casting moonshadows in its wake.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Moony's going to kill us," said Peter, as the three of them sat slumped on a bed in the main ward of the Hospital Wing, waiting for Madame Pomfrey to allow them into the small private ward to see Remus.

"We know, Pete," James muttered.

Sirius didn't say anything. His muscles ached, and his head was stuffed full of cotton wool from a night spent chasing through the Forbidden Forest, trying to keep the wolf under control so he didn't run off and savage half of Hogsmeade.

"No, I mean _really_," Peter said, chewing on his knuckles in a distinctly rat-like gesture. "When he finds out we let him out – he's gonna _kill _us."

"Damnit, Pete, we _know_!"

And they did know – all of them. Sirius had known even as he led the whimpering, bleeding wolf out of the protection of the Shrieking Shack and into the open air, without any idea as to whether he and James would be strong enough to control him.

But they'd had to do it. Moony had been going insane trapped in the room at rickety bedroom at the top of the house. Nothing Padfoot or Prongs had done had stopped the wolf gnawing and biting at itself, throwing itself against the boarded up windows, tearing its fragile muzzle on splintering wood as it tried to claw its way out to freedom.

The wolf – always desperate to go out anyway – had picked up on Remus's agitation and his renewed memories off his mother under the full moon, and this time, the presence of his pack hadn't been sufficient to stop him doing serious damage to himself. Sirius, James and Peter (who had crouched helplessly between James's antlers) had exchanged looks and knew what they would do. It had been incredibly dangerous – even for them – but they had all known, deep down, that one more moon like the one of The Prank, and Remus might not make it.

Sirius looked up as Madame Pomfrey emerged from the little side ward. She looked almost as exhausted as he felt. "You boys can go in. It was another bad one, I'm afraid."

She wasn't exaggerating. When the Marauders entered the room, it was to see Remus broken and pale-faced under the covers, looking – as he always did post-full moon – as shrunken and small as he had in second year, even though Sirius knew intellectually that he was the same size as ever.

Remus opened his eyes as they entered, his sensitive nose picking up on their presences. "Pack," he croaked. "Pads." One of his hands flexed fretfully as he reached in Sirius's direction. "Pads."

Sirius immediately crossed to the bed and sat down on it, gathering Remus's bandaged form carefully into his arms. There was no trace of the masculine embarrassment he felt when hugging James close. Remus had always been different.

"Hey Moony."

Remus snuffled and curled into Sirius, his nose pressed into his chest to take in the scent of his mate. He took no notice of the pile of chocolate James and Peter dropped onto his bed, and instead reached towards them again with murmurs of "Prongs, Wormtai'," until they touched his hands and arms reassuringly. Slowly, he dropped off into sleep.

Sirius couldn't help wondering if this would be the last time Remus allowed him to hold him like this. He wasn't sure quite how angry the werewolf would be when he remembered bits of what happened, but he knew it wouldn't be a comfortable situation.

Sirius was just glad that they had returned to school on a Friday so they had the weekend to themselves to try and work things out.

An hour after Remus had fallen asleep, James and Peter left them together as they went off to the kitchens to try and locate some breakfast. Sirius had no intention of moving, in spite of the fact that his legs had fallen asleep and he had a cramp in his back.

His hand brushed over the tawny head resting on his shoulder, his fingers working to gently untangle the fly-away strands.. He glanced down and saw that one of Remus's feet had slipped free of the covers and moved to pull the duvet over it. He stopped after a moment, and reached out instead to touch the foot.

Remus hated his feet. It was one of his many odd quirks. Sirius had bugged him about it until Remus had finally confessed that he thought they gave him away. He claimed that they looked like the feet of a werewolf. At the time, Sirius had had no idea what Remus meant. To him, Remus's feet looked perfectly normal. Hardly scarred, long and pale and thin like his hands, with straight, elegant toes.

Now, however, he suddenly saw what Remus meant. There was something about his feet that was usually hidden in the rest of his body. Perhaps it was the sinewy lines that seemed more defined and taut along the top than other people's feet. Or perhaps it was something about the way his toes were set, so that no matter how Remus stood, he always looked poised on the balls of his feet, ready for fight or flight.

Perhaps it was merely because his feet weren't altered, like the rest of Remus, by his sweet-natured human personality.

His hands – which were also slender and strong and pale – were always blunt-nailed, ink-splattered and precise. His hair was fall-in-to-his-eyes long which made him look unassuming and shy. His clothes were shabby and down to earth.

Only his feet escaped the effects of Remus's constant fight against the wolf, and it was odd contradictions like these that made Sirius's heart pound and his chest ache – knowing he could never, ever find anyone he loved quite as much as this boy in his arms.

He ran his fingers over the top of Remus's exposed foot in light caress, before he gently shifted it beneath the duvet again. The movement caused Remus to stir a little in his arms. He opened his eyes and looked up into Sirius's face.

"Padfoot?"


	66. Canoodling and Career Talks

**Disclaimer: Nothing has changed. The Wizarding world and all its inhabitants are still not mine. **

**Warning: A light slashy scene near the end. Nothing graphic as this is . **

**Many thanks to my beta who is still sticking with me after all these chapters. She really is a champion!**

**X**

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**REMUS:**

The dreams were strange, Remus thought, as he gradually became aware of his mind slipping back from the grip of childish wolfishness. Remus was used to post-moon dreams. They generally focused around the events of the night before – a natural human reaction as his mind scrabbled to recover bits and pieces of lost memory.

The dreams were usually patchworks of pain, made up from scent-tinted pictures that escaped from Moony's mind and into Remus's. The smell of the Shrieking shack – all wood, rot, fear and dust. The sense of entrapment and an irrepressible longing for freedom. The desire for blood and running and pack – though now the latter held shimmers of wolfish joy at being granted his wish. The hot ripping pain of the change and tearing, urgent teeth.

These were the usual images Remus was bombarded with as he slipped back into consciousness. Today, however, was different. For the first time that Remus could ever remember, Moony actually seemed content to retreat to the back of his mind. There were overtones of exhaustion in his canine mind as he relinquished control to his human counterpart.

Remus's mind flickered with images of the night before. There was a flash of hurt and pain and biting. An image of Padfoot's black face and pleas of _no bite, Moony, no bite! Moony hurt. No bite!_ Then there were Prongs's tree-arms (_antlers_, Remus's emerging mind informed the wolf), and they were lowered and poking Moony's flank and sides, herding him down into a long tunnel that made Moony skittish and uncertain. _New place, new place. _

And then there was moonlight and growing things and running and new-smells, and Moony forgot all about the tunnel and biting away the human hurt from his body.

Remus was bombarded with rapid, jagged images – damp grass on loping paws, moonlight and moonshadows, Prong's tree-arms being caught in real tree-arms, Padfoot's lolling grin – tongue out, rump raised, plumed tail wagging - Wormtail's ecstatic squeaking...but most of all _freedomrunningfreedom_, dodging trees, leaping logs, howling for joy as his pack raced to keep up.

Remus's mind slipped further into consciousness, and he was aware of aching muscles and the sharp pain of bites and gashes that Moony had inflicted on himself before _darktunnel-runningfreedommoonlight._ But his mind – his emotions – were calm and content, not the angry, jagged mess he usually arrived to after a night of Moony taking over.

_They let me out_, Remus suddenly realised. _Oh, Merlin, they let me out!_

He wanted to be angry. He _longed _to be angry. He wished he felt any desire to scream at his friends, demand they never do it again. Because he was betraying _Dumbledore_, who had given him a chance when no one else would. As well as the residents of Hogmeade, who had done nothing to deserve the danger of a werewolf mauling.

Remus stirred a little as he felt a hand touch his foot, and became aware of the fact he was cradled in warm arms – Padfoot's arms, with his blue-grey scent of rain, and dog, and boy all around them. Sirius's hand brushed gently over Remus's bare foot and then shifted to cover it again with the duvet. Remus opened his eyes.

"Padfoot?"

The arms holding him stiffened, and Sirius's voice was very wary as he said, "Yes, Moony. How are you feeling?"

Remus knew Sirius was particularly worried or upset, because his accent always became mouth-full-of-marbles aristocratic when he wasn't concentrating.

"Mmurf..." Remus said, struggling to bring his thoughts into coherent order. 

"Moony." Sirius's arms tightened round him, pressing painfully against one of the wounds on Remus's upper arm. He dipped his head so his mouth and nose were pressed against Remus's hair. "I'm sorry, Moony." The words were genuine, but hopeless, as though Sirius was sure they wouldn't be enough.

"What for?" Remus asked tiredly. "For doing exactly what I told you not to do? For making me betray Dumbledore?" He tried to shift his wounded arm out from under Sirius's feverish grip. "You're hurting me, Sirius."

Sirius's grip relaxed, and he made a small, doglike noise of apology in the back of his throat as he smoothed his hand down Remus's bandaged arm. "For all that. But I would do it again. You would have killed yourself, Remus. I'm not being melodramatic. You know we wouldn't have done that lightly. Especially not after...you know...with Sniv-Snape."

Remus pressed his lips together and looked down at the foot that Sirius had covered with the duvet. Remus hated his feet, but Sirius's hand had been tender as his traced his fingertips over the arch and the toes.

"If it had been me, Remus, would you have done any differently? If I was the werewolf – or James, or Peter – and you _knew_ we would die otherwise...would you have done any different?"

"Yes." _No._

"You're lying, Moony. I can tell. Your nostrils flair."

Remus relaxed a little. He didn't like it when Sirius called him 'Remus' in that serious tone of voice. It made things seem frightening and grown-up. It made him think of consequences and the war and the future. Sirius's adult voice frightened Remus more than anything because it meant that Sirius was growing up, and when that happened, Remus knew there was no turning back.

"Just don't do it again, Padfoot."

Sirius's serious face made a re-appearance, along with a thin, determined line to his aristocratic mouth. "I won't make that promise."

"But Dumbledore..."

"Dumbledore never needs to know." Sirius's hand brushed through Remus's hair. "We'd never let you hurt anyone. You know that. I got you, I won't let go, remember."

"I got you to love me so," Remus mumbled, not quite singing the words.

Sirius huffed a laugh into his hair. "Yeah. I got you, babe."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus thought the guilt of his full moon excursion would weigh on him in the coming weeks, but there was so much more to worry about that it was pushed to the back of his mind. The newspapers were blaring stories of new Death Eater attacks every morning, and the OWLs loomed nearer and nearer as the days passed.

Even Sirius and James seemed to have settled down a bit, and Remus almost fainted in shock when he came up to the dorm one day to find the two of them lounging on James's bed testing one another on History of Magic, of all things.

Remus paused in the doorway, his mouth falling open. "Excuse me, but have you seen a magical portal around the place?" he asked in his most polite tone.

Sirius and James looked up with identically blank expressions. "You what, mate?" James asked.

"A portal. Only I seemed to have stepped into a parallel world. One in which the two of you are studying for History of Magic. I am rather disturbed by the whole experience."

"Would it make you feel better if I told you about the copy of Playwizard hidden between the pages of _600 Years of Bloodshed and Warfare: Volume 12_?" Sirius asked, putting on what looked like a genuine expression of concern.

"There's no use," Remus threw himself back on his bed "I heard you describing the main events of the 1674 Goblin Wars when I came in. Unless you two have become decidedly kinky under all the pressure, I doubt you're reading anything pornographic."

"I might find _you _talking about the goblin wars kinky," Sirius said. "It's worth a shot, anyway. Prongs can be as boring as Binns when he puts his mind to it."

"Oi! Take that back, you git!"

"Make me."

The study session regressed into violent wrestling match that resulted in the whole area surrounding James's bed becoming even more trashed than usual. Remus relaxed and closed his eyes, his world returning to normal.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

By the time Easter arrived, along with two more full moons (which niggled and gnawed at Remus's conscience like woodworm through an old oak table), most of the fifth and seventh years were looking decidedly frazzled.

Remus's birthday had passed with minimal fuss, and he wished he could say that being sixteen made life easier. Unfortunately, it only seemed to underline the fact that he was growing up whether he wanted to or not.

"Careers talks today," James said one morning just after Easter. His mouth was full of porridge with splattered onto the table as he talked.

"Can't you at least _swallow_ before you talk, Prongs?" said Remus, grinding his teeth and rubbing away the beginnings of a headache from between his brows.

James frowned at him. "What crawled up your butt and died?"

"Nothing." Remus used his spoon to push the silver bacon dish further away from him. Being in near contact with silver made him irritable at the best of times.

"Moony." Sirius picked up the dish and passed it down the table. "You're worried about something. You can tell us." He touched the back of Remus's hand as it rested on the table.

Remus opened his mouth to snap back, but was interrupted but the arrival of Lily, who had taken the OWLs stress even more harshly than the rest of them, and could be heard berating innocent bystanders regularly on her way to the library, lugging piles of books and revision notes. Right now, she looked drawn and tight-lipped, her red hair rather lank and her eyes ringed with dark circles.

Remus wondered how many of the books were for OWLs revision, and how many were on protective spells for her Muggle family.

Without seeming to notice what she was doing, she slumped down onto the bench beside James and drooped forward to rest her head on her plate. James looked like all this birthdays, Christmas's and Easters had come at once.

"Evans! This is marvellous! Have you finally given in to my charms? Hogsmeade next weekend?"

Beside Remus, Sirius mimed Avada Kedavra-ing himself with his fork.

Lily didn't even bother replying. Without lifting her head, she dipped her hand into her pocket for her wand, muttered a hex at James (who yelped and clutched at his chest in alarm), then dragged herself to her feet and left the table. She hadn't even glanced at the food on the table.

"She's done sometime to my nipples!" James exclaimed, embarrassingly loudly.

"Great Merlin, why do we put up with you?" Sirius said, with no apparent sympathy at all.

"My nipples! My nipples!" James moaned, clutching them through his school shirt.

"For heaven's sake, let's take a look then," Remus said, giving in when it became clear Sirius wasn't going to help.

"Not here!" James said. "What if they're all gross and oozy?"

"Do they feel gross and oozy?" Remus asked. "And if you want my help, you'll have to get it here, because I'm eating."

"You really are in an awful mood today, Moony," Peter said, sidling away from James who had apparently decided that his discomfort was worse than his embarrassment – not that it took much – and was fumbling to unbutton his shirt.

"Now that's something you don't see every day," Sirius said, regarding James's exposed chest with interest. "Do they hurt?" He reached forward to flick one of James's transfigured nipples.

"Hey! Hands off!" James covered his chest with his hands. "You have Moony for that."

Sirius snickered. "Moony doesn't have coat buttons for nipples. How did she make them look sewed on?"

"Moony!" James looked pleadingly at Remus as the other Gryffindors and a fair few Hufflepuffs began crowding round to see his chest. Remus sighed and pulled his wand out, muttering a countercharm. Lily had obviously not been on top form that morning because James's nipples returned to normal after a few seconds.

"Evans is losing her touch," Sirius commented. "Usually it would take at least fifteen minutes to undo one of her hexes."

"She's worried and stressed," Remus said. "You shouldn't rile her up, Prongs."

"I _didn't_. I just asked her out."

"Can't you just – " Peter began, then broke off as the post owls flew into the hall with a flurry of wings, hoots and screeches. Remus felt his heart jump as he spotted the large, familiar shape of the Anders' eagle owl, Brutus. The owl circled their heads for a few seconds, before settling regally on the table in front of Remus, leaning forward to steal one of Sirius's sausages as Remus untied the letter.

_Dear Remus,_

_We haven't heard from you much recently. Are you upset with us about anything? I hope not. I know that you have your OWLs coming up and are probably just caught up in studying. _

_I'm just writing to let you know that we'll be away for the next couple of weeks. Neil is going off on assignment to Germany and I've decided to tag along and turn it into a proper holiday. We'll bring you back some lovely German chocolate. You can still write to us, of course, but it will take longer for a reply to get through – especially since there is so much security around because of all the attacks. _

_I hope you're not too stressed. Mr. Potter was around here the other day, and he said you have your career talks this week. Good luck!_

_All our love,_

_Angela and Neil_

_Xxx_

Remus's fingers gripped the edges of the parchment so hard that they wrinkled. His stomach felt sick and heavy. "Prongs?" he said, deliberately keeping his voice eve. "Your Dad is Neil's partner since Neil got promoted, right?"

James, Sirius and Peter were watching him worried expressions. They knew what Remus's carefully blank face and voice meant.

"Yeah," James said, keeping his voice down as he finished buttoning his shirt. "He asked to be when his partner retired. Said Professor Anders was very promising."

Remus looked down at the letter, gnawing on his lower lip. "Has he got any assignments out of the country recently? They would have them together, right?"

"No. Not that I know of, anyway."

Sirius placed a hand on Remus's thigh under the table. "What does the letter say, Moony?"

Silently, Remus put the letter on the table and his three friends craned their heads to read it.

"Maybe he went with someone else?" Peter put in. "Maybe it was something only he could do."

James opened his mouth, as though he were going to say something, and then closed it again.

"What, Prongs?" Remus looked at him, feeling desperate. "You can say it."

James scratched his chin, looking uncertain. "Well, in his last letter Dad said they were pulling people back from foreign assignments because of the attacks in this country. He said they need every Auror they can get to help keep control of things. Also," he looked apologetically at Remus, "they don't really allow husbands or wives to tag along on official Auror business."

Remus avoided their eyes and looked miserably out of the window.

"We don't have any kind of proof that they're – you know – involved with you-know-who," Sirius said, his voice very low.

"What other explanation is there?" Remus murmured. "Their money is going somewhere. And Voldemort promised a way to cure lycanthropy. Even if I know he's lying, they might have been desperate enough to believe him. You should see how they react after the moon. They look so...helpless. And torn. Like they would do anything to help me."

"You're their son," Peter said. "Most parents would feel that way. Sirius's being the exception of course. And your Dad. I'm going to shut up now."

"My Dad'll be alright, yeah?" James said, with a rather sick look on his face. "No matter what, Professor Anders wouldn't do anything to put him in danger, right?"

Remus looked down at the letter again. "I don't...d-do you think they really could be on assignment for...you know?"

"We don't know, Moony." Sirius squeezed his thigh. "But there's absolutely nothing you can do. You know that. You have to concentrate on your OWLs. That's the most important thing at the moment."

"No," Remus snapped. "It's not, is it? There are way more important things than the damn OWLs! This _war_ for one thing. People are _dying_ and afraid and helpless. Ask Lily – she knows. They're desperate for fighters and help, and all we can do here is sit around writing stupid exams!"

"Moony, we need exams to _become_ Aurors. You know that." Sirius reached for him, as though to pull him into a hug, but Remus ducked him and stood up. "Look, calm down, Remus," Sirius tried.

"No! Just...leave me alone."

Remus stalked out the hall, leaving his friends staring after him.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Take a seat, Mr. Lupin," Professor McGonagall said, indicating the chair on the opposite side of the desk in her office. Remus entered the room and perched on the edge of the chair, his fingers picking at the worn cuffs of his robes as McGonagall leafed through his file.

"Well, your marks are exemplary. You're in the top ten in every subject in your year except for Potions. What is it you plan on doing when you leave school?"

Remus felt a wave of angry frustration rise in him. "Well, it doesn't really matter, does it?"

Professor McGonagall looked at him sharply. "Watch your tone, Mr. Lupin."

_Stop, Remus! _Some part of him pleaded, but now he had started, everything bubbled to the surface in a fountain of words that poured unstoppably from his mouth. "Why should I?" He laughed rather hysterically, throwing his hands up to encompass their surroundings. "I've been thinking about it for the past few weeks, and I don't see why I should do any of this." He reached out and whipped his file out from under Professor McGonagall's surprised hands, flipping through it roughly. "Transfiguration, Defense, Herbology, Arithmancy...good behaviour, exemplary performance, prefect..." He tossed the folder back down again. "What does it even matter? You and I both know I could never hold down a proper job for more than a couple of months before people catch on to what I am."

"Remus, _really_. Come now, calm down!" Professor McGonagall looked shocked and disturbed by his outburst, and Remus couldn't blame her. He'd never been anything but polite and unassuming to any of the teachers before. But right now his frustration was like a brakeless train, out of control and hurtling towards disaster.

"Why should I?" Remus leant forward, elbows on his knees. "Do you know what it's _like? _Seeing your classmates sit around discussing what they're going to talk about in their career meetings - want to do when they leave school? And I have to sit there and know that I can never have any of that. No matter how hard I work, or how many OWLs or NEWTs I get, as soon as an employer finds out what I am I'll been on the street. Or even reported to the ministry and punished."

Professor McGonagall looked more disconcerted that Remus had ever seen her. Her expression warred between emotions of disconcertion, pity and the desire to berate him for his outburst. For some reason, this only made Remus angrier.

"Do you know what?" he said, his voice shaking. "I sometimes wish I'd never been allowed to come here – that I'd stayed with my father. At least then I wouldn't have had any delusions as to what my place is in this world. If you grow up thinking you're an animal, it doesn't hurt as much to be treated like one."

"You don't mean that, Remus," Professor McGonagall said, her pity obviously winning out.

Remus thought about his future, about the fact his foster parents were probably supporting Vodemort because of him, about the fact that his friends could be put in prison for being animagi, and how he was putting the residents of Hogmeade in danger every full moon. How he was betraying Dumbedore. "Sometimes, I really, really do," he slumped back in his chair, running out of steam. "I really do."

There was a long silence between them, and Remus listened dully to the ticking of the little oak clock on Professor McGonagall's mantelpiece.

"You have options, Remus," she said eventually.

"Really?" he crossed his arms and looked at her, knowing and not caring that his expression was scornful and sullen. "What are they then?"

Another long silence and he laughed, unable to help it. He wondered if this was what Sirius felt when he broke out into laughter at such inappropriate times. "Exactly. Can I go?"

Without waiting for an answer, he stood up and headed to the door.

"Remus, wait."

He didn't. He wrenched open the door and stalked out. He didn't slow down as he headed towards the Gryffindor tower, and didn't turn his head as he said, "Am I not allowed _any_ privacy?"

There was a shimmer in the air beside him and James and Sirius appeared from under the invisibility cloak, Peter in rat-form on James's shoulder. They didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed as James stuffed the cloak into his book bag.

"That was one hell of a performance, Moony," he said. Remus could tell he was going for manly joviality. He missed the mark when his voice cracked on the last word.

"It wasn't a performance," Remus said, his voice tight. "It was a brief rundown of my future prospects in what was supposed to be a _private _meeting."

"Is this what you've been stressing about all week?" Sirius asked. "You should have said something."

"Why?" Remus said. "You can't do anything about it anymore than McGonagall can."

"That's not the point, though, is it?" Sirius said, and Wormtail squeaked in agreement. "We're your friends. _More _than friends in my case. Our job is to listen to you and sympathise even if there isn't anything we can do to help you. And besides, I'm going to find something to help you if it kills me."

"I won't take your charity, Padfoot."

"I know that, Moony. That wasn't what I was offering."

"Well, what were you offering?"

"I told you. I'm figuring it out. I'll let you know when I know."

"Yeah," said James, and Wormtail nodded so vigorously that he slipped off the bony boy's shoulder and only Remus's quick reflexes saved him from a rather violent interaction with the stone floor of the corridor.

Remus's patted the trembling rat's head absently as he frowned at Sirius. "You won't find anything to help me. You think I haven't looked?"

To his surprise, Sirius's face broke into a grin, and he tossed his hair out of his eyes in a careless, arrogant gesture that wasn't missed by a group of fourth ear girls walking past. "I remember you saying those exact words once before in second year. In regard to your furry little problem."

Remus opened his mouth, then closed it again. He blew a puff of air out of his mouth and shot Sirius a sideways glance. "This is different."

"You're right," Sirius agreed easily. "This should be much easier. If us three and the Anders and Evans and Dumbledore all accept you for what you are, I don't see why we can't find other people who will."

Remus wanted to protest. He wanted to say that the world just didn't work like that. Some things just weren't possible, no matter how much you wished they were. Yet he couldn't, because for Sirius and James, all things _were_ possible, because they believed they were. If anyone could think of a solution, it would be them.

Wormtail struggled out of Remus's hands and clawed his way up his worn sleeve to his shoulder. Remus felt himself smile for the first time in days as they climbed through the portrait hole and into the common room.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Remus woke later that night when his mattress dipped and Sirius's long, warm limbs arranged themselves comfortably at his side.

"D'you mind?" Remus yawned, turning over "'M trying t'sleep."

"You still upset about earlier?" Sirius whispered, choosing to ignore Remus's comment.

"Mm-mm," Remus said, shaking his head without opening his eyes. "Now go t'bed."

"I'm in bed."

Remus couldn't be bothered to protest about the fact that Sirius was taking up way more than his fair share of bed, and instead curled up against the other boy and prepared to go to sleep. He gave up and opened his eyes suspiciously when Sirius murmured a silencing charm."

"What are you doing?"

"I thought I might seduce you. You know, to cheer you up."

"Pads, I can't. I'm busy."

"Doing what?"

"Washing my hair. Honestly, what do you think? I'm trying to sleep. We have exams in the next few weeks."

"Exactly! We've got to have some fun before we're all too tired to think straight." He sniggered at his unintentional pun and Remus groaned, turning over and burying his head beneath the covers.

There was a long sulky silence from beside him that became more and more potent until Remus gave up and pulled the covers back. "Fine! Seduce me!"

He crossed his arms and scowled up at Sirius who was leaning over him, his face pale and shadowy in his wandlight.

"There's no point if you're not even going to make an effort."

He looked so much like Padfoot being scolded for shedding black fur on Remus's bed, that Remus couldn't resist. "Oh, come here, you silly puppy." He reached up and pulled Sirius's mouth down onto his own, and it was only a few seconds before Sirius relaxed and kissed him back.

It was different at night in his bed. It seemed more real, more forbidden, yet more exciting at the same time. Remus could hear Sirius's ragged breathing against his skin as the other boy worked his mouth and tongue over Remus's jaw, neck and collarbone.

" Pads..." Remus breathed, aware that his own breathing was not that steady either. "Mm...love you..."

"Good," Sirius somehow managed to sound awed and smug at the same time.

"What now?" Remus asked. His breath hitched as Sirius's cool hand trail up under his pyjama shirt and over his belly and chest, tracing the line of one of his scars up to his nipple.

"I've been reading that book the Anders sent you," Sirius mumbled, pressing his lips to the point where Remus's ribs ended and his stomach began.

Remus's brain hoisted a red flag and waved it frantically, trying not to drown under a sea of hormones. "Pads!...P-Padoot! Sirius, wait!"

Sirius lifted his head and peered down at Remus's face, looking pink-lipped, ruffled and flushed. Remus felt as though his whole lower body was on fire, and tried to remember why he was protesting. "W-we don't...I mean...just s-sixteen...and not r-r-ready..."

"Oh. _Oh!_" Even in the dim wandlight, Remus could see that Sirius was flushing. "No, not that. I know. Not that yet, Moony. I just thought we could..you know..."

He lifted himself up and shifted to the left, then lowered himself lightly down on top of Remus. Remus felt his whole body twitch with a bolt of desire as Sirius's full length came into contact with his own, their groins pressed together. "_Oh!_"

Sirius gave a breathy laugh. "Like that do you?" He thrust a little and Remus shuddered and growled. He couldn't have stopped himself if he had suddenly been told the werewolf police had bugged his room.

"God, Moony!" Sirius pressed his face into Remus's neck as they pressed and thrust awkwardly into one another. "You don't know what you do to me."

Remus couldn't say anything, only make small whimpers and growls and stuttering beginnings of words. Judging from the answering trembling in Sirius's body, he didn't mind.

They were sixteen, so neither of them lasted long. When Sirius came, he laughed and laughed, pressing clumsy kisses all over Remus's face, bumping their noses rather painfully and getting his trembling fingers caught in Remus's hair. His laugh was infectious and soon Remus was laughing as well. They curled up together on the bed, shaking and hiccoughing with laughter as they fumbled for wands and muttered cleaning spells.

"Wonderful, Moony," Sirius said, when they had both finally recovered and lay side by side on the bed. "You were just so...yeah."

"Mm..." Remus agreed, nuzzling wolf-like into Sirius's side. "You too. Now go to sleep."

Sirius smiled and stroked his head. "Okay. You love me, right?"

"Course I do," Remus mumbled. "Always have. More than anyone."

"More than the Anders?"

"More than anyone, Padfoot. 'K?"

"M'kay. 'Night Moony."


	67. Avenging Remus

**Disclaimer: Not mine, as ever. ESPECIALLY the bits in bold. You will notice that those are lifted directly out of the chapter, 'Snape's Worst Memory', in **_**Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix**_** by JK Rowling**_**. **_

**SIRIUS:**

The new summer sun made Sirius's crouched position beneath the Ravenclaw stands stuffy and uncomfortable. He wished he had been able to borrow James's cloak, but he didn't want his friends to know where he was. He felt as though he were betraying both them and himself by being here. Too ashamed to tell them, and too weak to resist.

Sirius could see clearly through the narrow gaps between the wooden benches of the Quidditch stand. He had a clear view of the field, and of the thirteen little green-and-silver figures that zipped around in the sky above it – Slytherin Seeker hopefuls.

His eyes were fixed on one little figure in particular; black hair whipped by the wind, body hunched and intent with determination to beat his competitors to the Snitch. Sirius wondered what Regulus would say if he knew his brother had come to watch his tryouts.

Even as he watched, Sirius couldn't provide himself with a satisfactory reason for his presence. Regulus had betrayed him. He had trusted his brother to keep the promise he made when he was just nine years old; a promise that they would never let their Houses come between them. But it had been _weeks_ that Sirius had remained trapped and near insanity in the dark of the wine cellar, and Regulus hadn't left him candles. Such a small thing, really – but something that could have saved..._everything_ that had gone wrong this year.

So why was he here? Why had he headed straight to the Quidditch pitch the moment he heard the Slytherins were holding tryouts for the following year? The moment he had heard Regulus's name mentioned?

Perhaps it was the memory of those nine years that they were brothers before Sirius had started Hogwarts. Those nine years when they had believed they would always be inseparable, and he had been Regulus's hero, and Regulus had been the one person he loved most in the world. Or perhaps it was that small voice in his heart which pointed out that Remus had loved him enough to forgive him for a much bigger betrayal than forgotten candles.

Remus was one of life's givers, though. Remus, no matter what he was, or what terrible thing was inflicted on him, remained an innately good person. Sirius _fought_ to be a good person. And it was hard, sometimes, to maintain the energy he needed for the fight. So easy just to slip back.

The tiny Regulus-shaped blur suddenly plunged towards the ground, almost a full length ahead of the next potential Seeker. He _was_ good, Sirius thought, emotions that were half bitterness, half pride twining in his belly. Regulus's long, aristocratic fingers – so like Sirius's own – reached towards the little shimmer of gold in the air in the front of him, and closed around it three metres from the ground. Regulus pulled up from the dive, the toes of his boots lightly brushing the grass.

Sirius told himself it was anger, and not fear for his brother's safety, that had caused his heart to skip a beat as Regulus caught the snitch. He watched as the potential Seekers returned to ground and crowded round the Slytherin captain. Most of them looked very dejected. Sirius allowed himself a smug smile. There was nothing wrong with enjoying a crowd of unhappy Slytherins.

"He got in."

Sirius jumped violently and swung round, his wand pressed to the chest of the person behind him (before he had a chance to register what he was doing. Remus took a step back and flung up his hands, his head arched back and tilted to the side at that odd submissive-wolf angle that he only ever adopted when he was too unnerved or surprised by something Sirius did to suppress the automatic canine gesture.

"Merlin's balls, Moony!" Sirius lowered his wand. "Don't creep up on me like that!"

"S-sorry." Remus stayed frozen in position, his body tense.

Sirius sighed and tucked his wand away, before reaching out and gently pushing Remus's arms down. He leant forward and pressed his mouth to the pulse point of Remus's bared neck, glad of the cover of the Ravenclaw stands. Remus relaxed a little, still looking uncertain.

"It's okay, Moony." Sirius pulled the unresisting boy against him. "I'm not mad."

"I know you wanted to be out here alone," Remus mumbled. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"It's okay," Sirius repeated. "Really. I shouldn't have been out here anyway."

"He's your brother. You can't help caring for him."

"I _don't_!"Sirius said sharply, in spite of all evidence to the contrary. "I don't."

"Okay."

"I _don't_, I said! He's a stupid, betraying, lying little toerag."

"Okay." It was the meekness in Remus's voice and stance that got through to Sirius. He suddenly registered the exhausted slump of the shoulders, the dark, wine-coloured rings around Remus's eyes, the ever-present tremor in limbs preparing for the change. Full moon tonight. That explained his more canine reactions as well.

"Damn it, I'm sorry, babe." Sirius ran his hand through his hair, glancing through the gap in wooden benches of the stands to see the green-and-silver figures heading towards the Slytherin changing rooms, signalling the end of the tryouts.

"He got in," Remus said again. "I could hear them talking. Your brother is Slytherin's Seeker."

Sirius shook his head and turned to slip his arm around Remus's waist as he drooped tiredly. "The Marauders are my only brothers."

"I hope not," Remus said, as Sirius pulled him out from under the stands and helped him up the path to the castle. "Otherwise this thing we have going on is incest. As well as buggery and bestiality."

"You know what I'm..._what?_" Sirius stopped so suddenly that Remus stumbled and almost fell face-first into a puddle. "_What_ did you say?"

Remus closed his eyes, as though he were berating himself for doing something unforgivably stupid. "Nothing. Don't worry about it. It just slipped out."

"_Bestiality_?" Sirius hissed, feeling a sick lurch in his stomach. "Is that what you think this is?"

"No!" Remus gripped Sirius's arm, his drawn face grave. "No, of course not. It was just something someone said once. I shouldn't have said anything. It was stupid."

Sirius froze, because those words were very familiar, spoken by that same voice, in that same self-loathing, helpless tone. There was a reason why he soared to the top of every class with so little effort. A photographic memory was invaluable. Right now, it was unrolling a black and white Padfoot-viewed picture of Remus huddled on Sirius's bed the night he had first changed back from his animagus form. Remus had been hysterical and upset – so upset that he had barely been able to look Sirius in the face.

_Oh, I'm sorry, Padfoot. It's not your fault. It's just something someone said to me. It made me think..._

Snape. The only person it could have been. The only person aside from Lily Evans and the teachers who knew that Remus was a werewolf. The wave of fury was white-hot and vicious in Sirius's belly.

"Padfoot?" Remus's voice had grown urgent, his hand tightening its grip on Sirius's arm. "I really am sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

_But it's obviously been niggling at you_, Sirius thought, the white-hot rage growing black around the edges with desire for revenge.

Out loud he said, "I'm not angry at you, Moony. Really. Come here, babe."

He pulled them out of sight behind a nearby beech tree, then wrapped his arms around Remus in a tight hug, feeling the tremors running through the thin body in his arms.

"You know you're human, right?" He said, his mouth pressed to Remus's hair.

"Partly," Remus mumbled. "You can't deny that I am also a dark creature."

"I don't care!" Sirius held him tighter. "You're human in all the ways that count. Don't you dare think that again."

"I won't," Remus lied. Sirius could sense the lie hovering between them, like the cloying scent of crushed cloves. "I won't."

Revenge, Sirius thought, had better be sweet to make up for this.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Are you sure it was Snape?" James asked quietly, flicking a glance over to Remus's bed where he was sprawled over his DADA revision notes, fast asleep. Sirius could tell he wasn't faking because his mouth was open and he'd drooled over the only page he'd managed to write before his exhausted body had given in.

"Who else would it be?" Sirius shifted in his place on James's bed. The two of them had made even less progress than Remus, spending most of the time they had been up here having a note-conversation about the events of that morning so that Remus's sharp ears couldn't eavesdrop. "The only other people who know about his furry little problem are Evans and the teachers, and as much as Evans is a ball-clenchingly terrifying member of the female species, she's all right really. And she dotes on Moony for some reason."

"And Dumbledore banned Snape from telling anyone else, but he didn't ban him from talking about it to us," James agreed. "So what're we going to do? We can't let him upset Moony like that."

"I don't know." Sirius studied Remus's sleeping figure, hating the way that even in his sleep, those small muscle-tremors shook his skinny limbs. "Remus wouldn't want us to do anything. He didn't want us to know at all. He wasn't thinking when he said it. It just slipped out."

"We are going to, right?" James sounded rather incredulous at the idea of Sirius letting it go. "For his own good?"

Sirius hesitated, his emotions warring between his desire to do what Remus would want, and to get revenge at Snape. "We shouldn't plan anything." He tapped his lips with the end of his quill. "But if the opportunity arises..."

"Yeah. Alright. If the opportunity arises." James's expression was vicious and Sirius was flooded with a surge of affection for him.

"Thanks, mate."

James shot him a sideways glance. "You're not the only one who cares about Moony. And I would protect him for you, even if you were. You know that."

Sirius smiled, one of those smiles that happened against his will and felt raw and exposed on his face. "Even if he joined Voldemort because of his promises to help werewolves?"

James hesitated, then nodded slowly. "As long as he didn't hurt one of us. It's not like we could blame him if he did. Our world treats him like crap, so he'd have every reason. But he wouldn't. You know that."

"Yeah. Not our Moony. Now come, we'd better do some DADA revision. The OWL is the day after tomorrow, and we're going to have a tough night tonight keeping Moony non-injured enough to be able to sit it without collapsing."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The first time Sirius spotted Snape alone following his conversation with James was after breakfast on the day of their DADA OWL. He sitting on a bench in the courtyard, his long nose buried in his Defence Against the Dark Arts text book. The surge of anger Sirius felt at the sight of Snape prompted him to elbow James and nod towards the Slytherin. James nodded minutely and distracted Remus by tossing a bit of rolled up paper into the smaller boy's mouth when he opened it to lecture Peter on the living habits of hags. While everyone's attention was focussed on trying to remember a spell to dislodge paper balls from werewolf oesophagus's, Sirius peeled away from the group and approached Snape.

"Snivellus." Sirius stood directly in front of the Slytherin, making sure he towered over the other boy in his most menacing manner.

To Snape's credit, he only gave the tiniest flinch before he raised his chin and twisted his thin mouth into a sneer. "Get the hell away from me, Black."

"Not until you pay for what you said to Remus."

Snape's face twisted even more. "I don't associate with that creature. I have no idea what you're talking about. Now get away from me! You smell like putrid Gryffindor stupidity."

Sirius felt himself grow hot with anger and he took a step closer to Snape, making sure to stand hard on the toes of Slytherin's scuffed shoes. "You know perfectly well what you said!" He deliberately sprayed Snape's face with spit as he spoke. "What you said about our relationship, you filthy, arse-faced little toerag!"

A light flush rose on the angular points of Snape's acne-spotted cheekbones. "If I were you, _Black_, I would watch my tongue."

"If you were me, I'd be a greasy little git!" Sirius snapped back.

"You just wait!" Snape stood up, clutching his book to his bony chest with white-knucked hands. "You just wait, Black! You'll be sorry one day when you and that disgusting creature you call your _boyfriend_ pay for what you've done to me!"

"Gentlemen? I trust everything is all right here?"

Sirius's head jerked up, and he was suddenly terrified that their whisper-shouting argument had been audible to more people than just Professor Slughorn. To his relief, the courtyard was almost completely empty – most of the younger years attending classes, and most of the older years inside studying for exams.

Sirius turned back to Snape, ignoring Slughorn's massive figure hovering like a comically stern balloon beside them. "_You're_ the one who'll need to watch your back, Snivellus. You can't say I didn't warn you!"

"_Mister_ Black!" Professor Slughorn blustered. "Ten points from Gryffindor!"

Sirius spared him a short nod, then turned and headed back inside, every limb in his body trembling from the effort of holding back from hexing Snape's sneering face into bloody shreds.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The DADA exam was easy – for Sirius, Remus and James, at least. Peter had a tendency to panic in exams, and the nervous energy afflicted him for hours afterwards. Even now, as they made their way to the door of the exam hall, he was twitching and skittering along beside them, a sight oddly reminiscent of his animagus form.

Part of Sirius felt sorry for him – Peter couldn't help being a little slower than the rest of them, and his heart was in the right place. Another part of him was short-tempered and irritable with worry about Remus, who was looking very peaky and drawn, and should have been in bed recovering from the full moon (which had been rough with his agitation over the exams). Peter's twitching was driving this part of Sirius up the wall.

"**Did you like question ten, Moony?"** he asked, to distract himself. Remus was always a good distraction.

"**Loved it." **Remus said. His tone was brisk to hide the waver of exhaustion. **"**_**Give five signs that identify the werewolf.**_** Excellent question."**

"**Do you think you managed to get all the signs?" said James in tones of mock concern.**

"**I think I did." **They followed the crowd out of the main doors and outside where the summer sun was a welcome relief from the stuffy exam room. **"One: he's sitting in my chair. Two: he's wearing my clothes. Three: his name's Remus Lupin."**

The two dark-haired Marauders laughed, and Sirius felt a swell of affection at the fact that Remus could always be counted on to keep his spirits up no matter how awful he was feeling. Peter didn't laugh. From the expression on his face, he'd just remembered the question and was desperately trying to remember what he'd written in his exam-induced panic.

"**I got the snout shape, the pupils of the eyes and the tufted tail," he said anxiously, "but I couldn't think what else – "**

"**How thick are you, Wormtail?" said James impatiently. "You run round with a werewolf once a month – "** Sirius obviously wasn't the only one whose nerves were on edge with poor Peter's buzzing.

"**Keep your voice down," implored** Remus.

James shot him an apologetic look as they made their way down to their favourite spot under the beech tree by the lake. Sirius himself felt a wave of guilt. Remus shouldn't be worrying about anything this soon after the full moon. It was his job to make sure of that.

Sirius looked up to meet James's eyes briefly, seeing the understanding in them. He was half ashamed and half grateful for the patience his friend was showing him. He knew he'd been difficult to live with the past couple of days since the Slytherin tryouts. No matter how much he pretended it didn't bother him, the thought of Regulus as Seeker made his insides squirm – though with what emotion he wouldn't have been able to identify. It tended to emerge as ridiculous pranks (last night involving the fastenings on the bras of all the girls in the Gryffindor common room), brashness and irritability.

"**Well, I thought that paper was a piece of cake," **he said, as always covering difficult emotions with loud, brazen declarations. **"I'll be surprised if I don't get 'Outstanding' on it at least."**

"**Me too." **James had obviously decided to follow his lead into less inflammatory topics of conversation. **He put his hand his pocket and took out a struggling Golden Snitch.**

"**Where'd you get that?"**

"**Nicked it," said James casually. He started playing with the Snitch. Allowing it to fly as much as a foot away before seizing it again; his reflexes were excellent. **Sirius knew perfectly well that a large part of the performance was to show off. Peter, still buzzing with nervous energy was so glad of the distraction, he completely overdid his reaction – applauding and gasping in a very embarrassing manner.

The small glance James shot Sirius from under his messy fringe – a glance that would have been missed by any observer who didn't know the boys well – told of another, more secret reason as well. Sirius received it loud and clear. _Forget Regulus, _it said. _Look – I can do exactly what he can do. Better, in fact. And I'm the Gryffindor Chaser, not Seeker. We're better than them. You're better than them - and better off without them. Don't forget that. _

Sirius had to use all his best acting skills to ensure that his face remained haughty and bored-looking rather than grinning ridiculously fondly at his friend. Remus, as usual, had pulled out a book and was already reading up on Transfiguration for their next exam. Sirius considered forcing him to pack it away to enjoy a work-free sunny afternoon, but he didn't want to upset him this close to the full moon.

**James was still playing with the Snitch, letting it zoom further and further away, almost escaping but always grabbed at the last second.** Peter's cheers and applauding were driving Sirius towards breaking point, and eventually he snapped.

"**Put that away, will you," **he said,** as James made a fine catch and **Peter** let out a cheer, "before Wormtail wets himself with excitement.**

Peter** turned slightly pink as James **grinned and said**, "If it bothers you." **Sirius couldn't help feeling a little bad. It wasn't Peter's fault he was so twitchy and over-the-top over exam times. He made sure he didn't look towards Remus, who, Sirius was sure, would be giving him a reproachful look.

"**I'm bored,"** he said instead. **"Wish it was full moon." **The idea of forgetting all his worries and stresses for one night, and running free and savage through the forbidden forest with the Marauders was looking very attractive right now.

"**You might," **Remus said, and Sirius inwardly cringed at the fact he's put his foot in it _again_. Remus, obviously taking pity on him, added, "**We've still got Transfiguration, if you're bored you could test me. Here..." **He held out his book.

Sirius snorted. Remus's idea of boredom-relieving activities differed vastly from his own. **"I don't need that rubbish, I know it all."**

"**This'll liven you up, Padfoot," said James quietly. "Look who it is..."**

Sirius turned his head and spotted Snape heading in their direction. Immediately his boredom was replaced with the stomach-clenching desire for revenge. Snape needed to pay and now was a good a time as any. They could show Remus that no one was allowed to get away with insulting him, especially slimy little Slytherins.

"**Excellent," he said. "**_**Snivellus**_**."**

Sirius and James stood up and approached the other boy.

"**All right, Snivellus?" said James loudly.**

Sirius had to hand it to Snape. His reflexes were almost as quick as James's. His wand was out of his pocket and already halfway raised when James shouted, **"**_**Expelliarmus!"**_

**Snape's wand flew twelve feet into the air and fell with a little thud in the grass behind him. Sirius let out a bark of laughter. **Revenge _would_ be sweet.

"_**Impedimenta**_**!" he said, pointing his wand at Snape, who was knocked off his feet halfway through a dive towards his own fallen wand. **He **lay panting on the ground, and Sirius and James advanced on him, wands raised. ** James glanced over his shoulder to where Lily and her friends were hanging round the bank of the lake. This was obviously not only a way to get revenge for the messy-haired boy. Sirius absently wondered if he should mention to James that Lily was unlikely to be impressed by him beating up her 'oldest friend'. Then he thought of Remus and the way Snape's words had affected him. He didn't care why James was doing this, only that Snape was _hurt._

"**How'd the exam go, Snivelly?" said James.**

"**I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment," said Sirius, **injecting as much of his fury into his voice as he could. **"There'll be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word."**

**Snape was trying to get up, but the jinx was still operating on him; he was struggling, bound by invisible ropes. **

"**You – wait," he panted, staring up at James with an expression of purest loathing, "you – wait!"**

"**Wait for what?" said Sirius coolly. "What are you going to do, Snivelly? Wipe your nose on us?"**

**Snape let out a stream of mixed swear words and hexes, but with his wand ten feet away, nothing happened. **

"**Wash out your mouth," said James coldly. "**_**Scourgify!**_**"**

**Pink soap bubbles streamed from Snape's mouth at once; the froth covering his lips, making him gag, choking him. **Sirius had rarely seen James quite _this_ vicious outside of a Quidditch match. Obviously a mixture of his desire for revenge and desire to impress Lily were working together to make him harsher than he usually was.

The latter was definitely a flop, because they were interrupted by the feminine yell of, **"Leave him ALONE!"**

Lily stood on the edge of the scene, her fists clenched furiously by her side, green eyes flashing.

"**All right, Evans?" said James, and the tone of his voice was suddenly pleasant, deeper, more mature.**

"**Leave him alone," Lily repeated, **eyeing James with unmistakable dislike. **"What's he ever done to you?"**

"**Well," said James, appearing to deliberate the point. **Sirius knew he wouldn't say anything about Remus in front of the growing crowd of onlookers. **"It's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean."**

Sirius forced himself to laugh along with the other students, even though he could see that James was only damaging his chances of winning Lily over even further.

**'You think you're funny,' she said coldly. 'But you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him **_**alone**_**.' **

**'I will if you go out with me, Evans,' said James quickly. 'Go on… go out with me and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again.' **

Sirius inwardly winced. James _really_ needed some lessons on asking out girls. No wonder Lily hexed him so often.

**'I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid,' said Lily. **

**'Bad luck, Prongs,' said Sirius briskly, **hoping to prevent his friend from digging himself any deeper. He** turned back to Snape. 'OI!' **

**But too late; Snape had directed his wand straight at James; there was a flash of light and a gash appeared on the side of James's face, spattering his robes with blood. James whirled about: a second flash of light later, Snape was hanging upside-down in the air, his robes falling over his head to reveal skinny, pallid legs and a pair of greying underpants. **

**Many people in the small crowd cheered; Sirius, James and Peter** laughed as well, though some part of Sirius had to fight not to notice how much the ragged, faded undergarments resembled Remus's. They were the clothes of a boy who had very little money, even for the bare basics in life, and made up for it by fighting for his pride. 

**Lily, whose furious expression had twitched for an instant as though she was going to smile, said, 'Let him down!' **

**'Certainly,' said James and he jerked his wand upwards; Snape fell into a crumpled heap on the ground. Disentangling himself from his robes he got quickly to his feet, wand up, but Sirius said, '**_**Petrificus Totalus!**_**' and Snape kneeled over again, rigid as a board. **

**'LEAVE HIM ALONE!' Lily shouted. She had her own wand out now. James and Sirius eyed it warily. **They had both seen the results of her spells often enough, not to want to be on the receiving end of them when she was this angry. 

**'Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you,' said James earnestly**, and, to Sirius's mind at least, brashly**. **

**'Take the curse off him, then!' **

**James sighed deeply, then turned to Snape and muttered the counter-curse. **

**'There you go,' he said, as Snape struggled to his feet. 'You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus -' **

**'I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!' **

**Lily blinked** and so did Sirius. What happened to the boy in the library who had looked at her the same way James did? Sirius wondered if it was the sheer humiliation of the situation that made Snape lash out as he had. Was it really that bad? Sirius had never dreamed Snape would verbally attack Lily in that way. For a brief second he remembered the argument between the two of them that he and Peter had overheard in the library. Lily disapproving of Snape's new Slytherin friends, and Snape had remaining stubborn. Perhaps the argument had escalated into something more. James, Sirius thought distantly, would be pleased.

**'Fine,' **Lily** said coolly. 'I won't bother in the future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, **_**Snivellus**_**.' **

Sirius jolted with surprise again. Yes, things had really gone downhill in the odd Gryffindor/Slytherin friendship. Good. Gryffindors were too good for Snape. Especially Lily.

**'Apologise to Evans!' James roared at Snape, his wand pointed threateningly at him. **

**'I don't want **_**you**_** to make him apologise,' Lily shouted, rounding on James. 'You're as bad as he is.' **

**'What?' yelped James. 'I'd NEVER call you a - you-know-what!' **

**'Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can - I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.' **

**She turned on her heel and hurried away. **

**'Evans!' James shouted after her. 'Hey, EVANS!' **

**But she didn't look back. **

**'What is it with her?' said James, trying and failing to look as though this was a throwaway question of no real importance to him. **

**'Reading between the lines, I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate,' said Sirius,** trying to dispel the feeling that something had gone very wrong with the whole situation**. **

**'Right,' said James, who looked furious now, 'right -' **

**There was another flash of light, and Snape was once again hanging upside-down in the air. **

**'Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?' **

There was the loud snap of a book being slammed shut from behind them. Both Sirius and James jumped. Sirius glanced round to see Remus stuffing his book into his bag and striding off back to the school, his head down.

And that was when Sirius recognized the uncomfortable feeling in his belly. They'd gone too far. _Again_. James seemed to come to the same conclusion because he glanced once at Sirius, before dropping Snape on his head again and sweeping his hand through his hair. "Actually, I've wasted enough of my valuable time on you, Snivellus. You're lucky. I've decided to let you off this time."

Sirius barely heard him, his heart hammering guiltily in his chest as his eyes remained on Remus's little figure slipping in through the main doors. _Why_ did he always have to go too far? He _knew _that Remus hadn't wanted them to hurt Snape, and he also knew that Remus was too afraid of losing his friends to stop them. It should have been Sirius's responsibility to realize this and stop the whole thing before it went too far.

"You should go after him, mate," James murmured, his wand still trained warningly on Snape as the Slytherin scrambled for his own and beat a hasty retreat.

"Snivellus deserved it!" Sirius stated, trying to convince himself they'd been in the right.

"'Course he did," James agreed, and Sirius wished he couldn't hear the uncertainty in his friend's voice as well. "But Moony doesn't think so."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Sirius found Remus up in the dorm, sitting cross-legged on his bed with Hamish in his lap, his expression tight-lipped and pale.

"I'm so sorry, Moony."

Remus let out a harsh laugh. "Why are you apologizing to _me_?"

Sirius shifted uncomfortably, unsure whether he should approach the bed or not. The slender hand that stroked over Hamish's red-and-gold spines was shaking with repressed emotion, and Sirius didn't know if it was with fury, pain or exhaustion.

"I let you down," he mumbled.

"You let yourself down," Remus snapped back. "And our House. It's not my place to tell you how to act. Dumbledore should never have made me a prefect."

"You shouldn't have to tell us." Sirius crept forward a step and perched on the edge of Remus's bed. "We shouldn't have gone so far."

"You shouldn't have done it at all!" Remus burst out. "_Why_ did you do that?"

"Because of what he said to you!"

There was a long silence, then Remus said, "What?"

"About…you know…our relationship."

Remus's whole upper body drooped forward, curled around Hamish's little form. "I never said that was him."

"You didn't need to, Moony."

Remus said a swear word that Sirius had never heard from him before. "So this was all my fault?"

"No, Remus! Not your fault. Mine and James's."

Remus let out a watery, disbelieving laugh. "Sometimes you're just too, much, Sirius Black." Sirius couldn't tell if it was an insult or merely a declaration. He reached out to touch Remus's thin shoulder, and the other boy flinched, but didn't pull away.

"I really am sorry."

"You should say that to Snape."

"Yeah."

They both knew he wouldn't.


	68. Brothers and Bloodpops

**Disclaimer: The Wizarding World and its inhabitants still belong to JK Rowling. I can only thank her for letting us play with her creations. **

**A/N: Bit shorter than usual, but the next bit had to be from Sirius's POV, so it couldn't be helped, I'm afraid. Much love to all my readers, Moonsign x **

**REMUS:**

The exams had been a long time in coming, but they were over so quickly that Remus felt he'd barely had time to draw a breath. The summer holidays approached with the accelerating inevitability of an oncoming train with no breaks.

Remus wished he were one of the many students who were looking forward to the break from school. Instead, he was facing weeks of time at home where he would have to smile and play along, pretending that everything was fine even as he searched for signs of the Anders' alliance with Voldemort.

Just the thought of it made him dizzy and sick, and he couldn't sleep as his mind threw up images of what might occur in the coming summer.

It was late at night, a week before the end of term. Remus once again lay wide awake, mind whirling as the night shuffled along at snail's pace. He almost jumped when he heard the loud creak of Sirius's bedsprings as the other boy climbed out. Remus had been so involved in his own thoughts, he hadn't even been aware that Sirius was awake.

After a few moments, Sirius's pale, pajama-clad figure slipped through Remus's bed curtains, muttering a silencing charm, and Remus lifted the edge of his cover up so he could slip in beside him. Sirius snuggled up against him, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to Remus's face and neck.

"Padfoot." Remus pressed him away a little. "I'm really not in the mood tonight."

Sirius tucked his forehead into the crook of Remus's neck, his breath shuddering from his mouth. "Please, Moony? Not everything, if you don't want. Just kissing?"

"I told you – I'm not in the mood."

"I need to not think. Please?"

"Sirius, for Merlin's sake!" Remus wriggled out from Sirius's embrace and sat up. "You can't force me!"

Sirius stiffened and sat up, his face tight in the dim light of Remus's almost burnt-down candle. "I would _never_. How can you even say that?"

He looked so hurt that Remus felt his stomach clench. He pressed his face into his hands to avoid those reproachful grey eyes. "Oh God, I'm sorry, Pads. I know you would never. I'm just all stressed out about – you know – the Anders and stuff."

He peered up through his fingers, but Sirius's expression hadn't changed.

"You're not the only one with problems," Sirius snapped. "Just because you've had it bad, it doesn't mean everyone else has had it easy."

"I know –" Remus began, but Sirius interrupted him.

"It wouldn't harm you to take a look round once in a while. You know, I'm not exactly feeling hunky-dory at the moment either!"

"I didn't say you were – "

"You think you have it bad with the Anders? They _love_ you! Is that not enough? It's more that a lot of people have. Who cares if they're dishing out a bit of cash to a stupid cause. They _love_ you!"

"Sirius, please – "

"You know, I don't want to go home either." There definite waver in Sirius's voice, and Remus felt his heart judder in shock.

"Home?" His lips felt numb. "You can't go home. Aren't you going to the Potters for summer?"

Sirius laughed harshly. "If you'd spent any time thinking about someone else over the last few weeks, you'd know the answer to that!"

"But…I just assumed…W-why? You c-_can't_ go back there, Sirius. They'd _kill _you!"

"No, Remus. If I _don't_ go back, I die."

"Why? I d-don't get…" Remus felt his voice trail away as his mind scrabbled to keep up with the conversation.

Sirius tilted his head, his expression softening for the first time. "No, you don't get it, do you? I forget that not everyone is versed in the finer details of pureblood culture." His voice was mocking as he spoke the last few words. "As though even half of what they do could ever be considered cultured."

Remus opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when Sirius reached out to brush the backs of his fingers down his cheek.

"I wasn't kidding when I said I had problems, Moony. Have you ever heard of the spell _heir officium_?"

Remus shook his head.

"I'm not surprised. It's not used that much anymore – only by the most traditional pureblood families. It was invented centuries ago to stop the oldest sons running off and deserting their families, only to return once the head of the family died so they could inherit." Sirius's expression was bitterly amused. "I was a bit of a wayward heir right from the beginning, so my father cast it so he would have some control over me as I got older."

Feeling rather shell-shocked, Remus reached out to grip Sirius's knee. "What does it do? The s-spell, I mean?" He wanted to sound calm and comforting, but the damn stutter always made a reappearance at the worst moments.

"If I don't spend at least a full month of every year at the family home, my father has the power to punish me however he sees fit – no matter where I am, and I have no power to retaliate."

"P-punish you?"

"Anything he likes: crucio, cutting curses, bone-snapping – the lot. He only has to stop short of killing me." Sirius gave a watery smile. "A dead heir is not much use to anyone. Much better to have a living puppet."

Remus's mind was completely blank with horror. His hand gripping Sirius's knee tightened to a point that must have been painful for the other boy. "What're we g-going to do?"

Sirius gently prized Remus's fingers from his knee, then reached out and gathered him into his arms. Remus pressed his face into Sirius's chest, breathing in his familiar blue-grey scent mingled with clean laundry and restless sleep.

"We can't do anything, Moony. James and I went to see Dumbledore a couple of weeks ago while you were recovering from the moon. We didn't want to worry you with it. You were worrying yourself sick already." He dipped his head and nuzzled Remus's hair in a very canine gesture. "But you had to know sometime, and tonight I just couldn't…"

Squirming round a little, Remus wound his own arms tightly round Sirius's torso. "You stupid git! I was being sulky and selfish. You need to snap me out of those moods when I get like that. Seriously, Padfoot. I'm so sorry. And I'm going to find a way to break you out again if it kills me."

"No, don't!" Sirius gripped Remus's shoulders and shook him to get his point across. "I told you – we've been to see Dumbledore and McGonagall. They both said the same thing. The only way to break the spell is if my father disowns me. And if he hasn't done that already, I have no idea what would induce him to do it this summer."

"So they're just going to let you go home for summer without doing anything?" Remus was glad Sirius had cast a silencing charm because he was aware that his voice was rapidly rising in volume.

"No, of course they aren't. They're trying to think of something. And if it gets longer than a month and I haven't managed to escape to the Potters they're going to come in all wands blazing and stuff."

"Why didn't you think of it before?" Remus asked. "If you'd said something earlier we'd have had more time to find something to help you."

"I'd honestly forgotten about it," Sirius said, his face creasing in self-disgust. "I don't even remember them casting it, really. I just remembered my father mentioning it one time."

"A month though." Remus curled more tightly against Sirius. "Do you _know_ what could happen in that time?"

"Of course I do," said Sirius, his voice tight. "What - you think I slept through all of last summer?"

"I don't want you to go back."

"I'll be fine, Moony. I'm a Marauder. We get through these things, don't we?"

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The next day was Saturday, and when Remus woke, Sirius was gone.

"You seen Padfoot?" he asked James who was ruffling his damp hair in front of the bathroom mirror.

"We had Quidditch practice first thing, remember? I came back here to shower because the other guys were taking too long in the changing room ones. Padfoot said he was going for a walk." He glanced at Remus's reflection over his shoulder. "Did you guys talk last night?"

"Why?" Remus felt a surge of worry. "Did he look upset?"

"No, mate. He looked a bit better than before, actually. He's been stressing about the holidays for weeks. That's what you guys were talking about, right?"

Remus nodded. "I feel bad I didn't notice."

James shrugged, running his fingers through his fringe. "You had a lot on your mind."

"He's my boyfriend. I should have noticed."

"Maybe." James stopped messing with his hair and turned to look at Remus. "He doesn't blame you."

The way he said it made Remus pause, studying his friend's expression. "You do, though."

"I don't."

Studying the floor at his feet, Remus avoided James's eyes.

"I really don't, Moony." A strong hand clapped down on Remus's shoulder. "I sort of did to begin with, but then Wormtail changed my mind."

"_Wormtail?_"

"I know. Sometimes I don't think we give him enough credit. He pointed out that Padfoot and I have been the prat-twins over the last little while, and you were only ignoring us to stop yourself strangling us."

"Peter sees a lot. I forget that sometimes."

"We all do. And we haven't been fair to you, mate. I know it must've been hard being a prefect and still beings friends with us. We asked you to bend the rules a lot."

"You never asked any such thing."

"We didn't need to. We knew you would do it."

Remus sighed and turned back to the dorm. "I'm off to find Padfoot. Where _is_ Wormtail, anyway?"

"Ah, yes. I should probably go un-stick him and apologise."

"Un-stick him?"

"Well, we weren't exactly receptive to his ideas to begin with. I needed time to think about it."

"Un-stick him from where?" Remus asked, his voice dangerous.

"The archway over the Great Hall's doors. There's a plate of food hovering a few inches from his face and he can't move a muscle."

"Prongs, that's awful! Go and un-stick him right now! And do something really nice to make up for it, you great git."

"Yeah, I'm onto it. Good luck with the mutt."

"Wormtail. Now."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Sirius was under the Marauder's beech tree beside the lake. He was sucking on a blood pop and staring out across the water. Remus, moving up behind him, followed his line of sight over to the opposite bank of the lake where a group of third-year Slytherins were playing gobstones on the rocks. One slim dark-haired one was instantly recognisable, even at this distance.

"Alright, Pads?"

Sirius jumped and glanced around, his face breaking into smile when he spotted Remus. His lips, teeth and tongue were stained bright scarlet.

"You look positively ghoulish," Remus commented, as he sat down beside the animagus.

Sirius leered. "Does it turn you on?"

"Yes. As a werewolf, my natural mate is a blood-pop sucking ghoul."

"Wanna snog?"

"Oddly enough, not right now. Those things are disgusting."

"They're not really blood-flavoured, you know. They just make you look like you've been drinking it."

"I rest my case. Disgusting."

Sirius shrugged and replaced the sweet in his mouth with a pop, turning back to face the lake again. The Slytherins appeared to have finished their game, and were making their way back around the lake in a disorderly group.

"I heard you and Prongs stuck poor Peter on the archway of the Great Hall this morning."

"He was lecturing. His voice annoys me when he lectures."

"He's your friend, Padfoot. You would never stick Prongs or me to anything."

"I might stick you to a bed." The scarlet leer returned and Remus tried to tell himself he was not turned on by it.

"Sirius."

"I know, I know. We shouldn't have done it." Sirius looked down at his hands as they tugged at the grass by his knees. "Do you think I'm a bad brother?" he blurted out, not looking up.

Remus floundered for a couple of seconds, taken off guard by the abrupt change of subject. "You what?"

"For Regulus. He wasn't a bad sort when we were younger. I think maybe if I hadn't been such a bad… you know… role model, he might have turned out better."

"You were a good role model, Sirius. It wasn't your fault."

"You're saying it was his?" Sirius asked sharply.

"No, no! Of course not." Remus closed his eyes and dipped his chin. "It wasn't either of your faults. You were children growing up in a very harsh environment and doing your best to deal with it in your own way. You rebelled, Regulus conformed. It's no one's fault but your parents'."

"But maybe if I – "

"You said it yourself, love. Regulus is a follower, like Pete. It's not their fault, it's just a part of who they are. It doesn't make them bad people."

Sirius looked at him, his eyes softening as they always did on those rare occasions that Remus used endearments. "Maybe this summer I can get him to see sense."

"Maybe you could." Remus kept the apprehension he was feeling from his voice. Sirius heard it anyway.

"I'll be fine, Moony."

Unable to help himself, Remus leant forward and kissed Sirius's red-stained mouth, tasting the sharp flavor of the blood pop on his lips. Sirius hummed and pulled him closer.

A rustle of cloth to their right alerted Remus's sensitive ears and he jerked back, his hand moving up to grab the wand he'd stored behind his ear. He had it pointed at the group of third year Slytherins before they could even react.

Not that they could have reacted. They seemed frozen to the spot in shock as they stared at Remus and Sirius, making no effort to hide themselves.

Remus reacted before he thought, pointing his wand first at one boy, then another. "_Obliviate! Obliviate! Obliviate!_"

"Remus, _STOP_!"

Remus froze, his wand hovering in front of the last face – familiar, aristocratic and terrified. Sirius's hand was on his wrist.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're _doing_?" Sirius spat, his eyes on Regulus's shocked and frightened expression. "Do you _know_ how dangerous that spell is, Remus? You could have permanently damaged them!"

"They…th-they…" Remus was trembling as the adrenaline seeped from his limbs again. He watched as the Slytherins, bar Regulus, blinked in bemusement, then turned and staggered up towards the castle, not appearing to see the two Gryffindors at all.

"Regulus?" Sirius pressed Remus's wand hand down to his side. "You alright?" He took a step forward and Regulus took a step back.

"Don't _touch_ me, you pervert!"

"Reg, please!"

"You're even more disgusting than I thought. To think that I…" Regulus's face twisted and he took another step back.

"Please don't tell anyone," Sirius begged.

"You think I _want_ people to know what a sick freak my own brother is? You stay away from me, Sirius!" He spun round and took off at a run back to the castle.

Remus and Sirius stood in shocked silence for a long time. Eventually Remus took a shuddering breath and said, "I'm sorry, Padfoot."

Sirius turned on him, his eyes bright with the tears he was fighting. "What, in the name of Merlin and Mordred is _wrong_ with you, Remus? You can't just _obliviate _people like that!"

"Th-they would have t-told…"

"But _obliviate_, Moony!" Sirius gripped Remus's shoulders hard. "And it wasn't just the spell. It was your face. For a minute there I genuinely thought you might hurt them badly."

Remus felt as though something was shriveling inside him. The wolf whined pitifully in his mind. _Moony bad. Moony sorry. Moony submit._

Remus felt his head tilt back submissively as his werewolf instincts kicked in.

"Oh, don't, Moony. Don't do that. God…" Sirius reached out and pulled Remus into his arms, leaning forward to nuzzle his face into his bared neck. With a small shudder, the tension left Remus's limbs and he relaxed into Sirius's hold.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I just reacted."

"And you _can't_, babe. You of all people can't afford to just _react_. If I didn't know you've been able to cast that spell effectively since you were eleven, I would have been terrified out of my mind."

Remus jerked in shock and disbelief. "You know about that time in first year?"

"James and I saw you. We almost wet ourselves then as well."

"That's why you didn't want to be my friend." It wasn't a question.

Sirius resting his chin on Remus's shoulder, stroking his hair. "You scared the hell out of me and Reg, but I have to admit I have no idea what we would have done if you hadn't done that. Do you have any idea how gay people are treated in the Wizarding World?"

"If it's anything like how they treat werewolves, I don't want to know."

Sirius sighed. "I wish we could freeze time right now. I wish we could just stay here together and not have to think about any of this."

Remus didn't answer. There was nothing he could say.


	69. Escaping the Dark

**Disclaimer: Still not mine**

**Sorry it's taken a while, but you know how it is with deadlines and assignments. Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Moonsign x**

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**SIRIUS:**

The train journey back to Kings Cross at the end of term had never been a happy time for the Marauders. This time it was even worse. The four of them sat silently in the compartment, faces drawn and muscles taut with apprehension.

No one spoke.

Sirius knew this was because the others thought that anything they said would only make it worse for him, and he couldn't think of a way to tell them that this soul-sucking silence was a thousand times worse than their false reassurances. James sat directly opposite him, his eyes flicking restlessly between the passing scenery and Sirius's face. Peter sat beside James, his whole body restless. His plump form shifted and squirmed on the seat. He kept opening his mouth as if to speak, but when Sirius looked at him hopefully he snapped it shut again.

Remus clung. The two of them were aware that the physical aspect of their relationship made James and Peter rather uncomfortable, so they usually kept overt public displays of affection to a minimum. Today, however, Remus seemed to be glued to Sirius's side like a limpet. Both his arms wrapped around one of Sirius's, their sides and legs pressed together, and Remus's head rested on his shoulder. Sirius had no idea how they would explain their position if anyone walked in, but he didn't have the heart to protest.

The hours passed sluggishly, and yet too fast at the same time. As the Hogwarts express finally entered the outskirts of London, Sirius felt his heart-rate pick up so much he thought he might pass out. Remus's grip tightened to a painful degree. Sirius stared out the window as the ugly, graffiti-littered sky-rise flats and office buildings of the outskirts gradually made way to more central London.

Because this was a magical train, the scenes outside the window flashed between concrete-and-electrically-lit Muggle London, where cars clogged the streets and shops sold flared jeans, miniskirts and electrical machines, to the bits and pieces of Wizarding London that was slotted in-between. These flashing scenes tended to be constructed from stone or wattle-and-daub; lit by lamps, inhabited by robed figures, and featuring shops selling owls, or potions ingredients, or Quidditch supplies. Sirius was always somewhat darkly amused that the Wizarding world, which considered itself to be so superior to the Muggle one, always appeared to be so archaic in comparison.

Eventually the flashing scenery began to slow, and the journey drew to an end.

"Moony." Sirius's voice cracked. "People are going to start moving about now. Maybe we should…you know…"

There was a long pause, then Remus slowly released him. Sirius felt blood race back into his limbs in a thousand tiny pinpricks.

"Sorry." Remus's gaze flicked to James and Peter apologetically.

"Forget it, mate," James said.

The train slowed down further as it approached the station and Sirius bit the inside of his cheek so hard that his mouth filled up with the rusty-iron taste of blood.

"Listen, Padfoot," James began awkwardly. "You know we…And if you need…we'd always…you know – never think the worst…or…" He cleared his throat. "So…yeah. Just so you know."

"Me too," Peter added.

Sirius looked at them, feeling fondness welling up in his chest. "Yeah. Thanks, mates."

The train pulled to a stop and Sirius glanced out the window to catch sight of Kreacher hanging round insolently round the area containing the fireplaces connected to the floo network, lips moving as he muttered under his breath. Sirius didn't have to hear him to guess the things he was saying.

James glanced between Sirius and Remus, clapped them both on the shoulders and made his way out of the compartment, followed by Peter who fluttered his fingers in a helpless little wave. Sirius moved to follow them, but a slender hand on his arm stopped him. He glanced at Remus who had his eyes fixed on the floor.

"Sirius…" He raised his head to look into Sirius's eyes.

"I know, Rem. Me too. We get through these things, though, don't we?"

"Yeah." Remus gave a wry smile. "We do. Onward and upward, eh?"

"All the way to the top."

"Mischief managed."

A sharp, burning magical slap suddenly stung Sirius's cheek and he jumped and glanced out the window. Kreacher and Regulus stared at him from the platform.

Sirius sighed and pulled Remus out into the now-empty corridor outside the compartment, unseen from the platform. He tugged the smaller boy towards him and deposited a quick kiss on his mouth.

"Gotta run. Family calls." He gestured towards his reddening cheek. "Later, Moony." He wished he were better at goodbyes.

"Bye, Padfoot."

He only looked back once, just as he was entering the floo. Remus stared at him miserably from near the station barrier. Neil Anders stood beside him. Sirius raised a hand in a wave and disappeared into the green flames.

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Being back was not a pleasant experience. Sirius flung himself onto his bed, his ears still ringing from the shrill hour-long lecture his mother had bestowed on him the minute he stumbled through the drawing room fireplace. The dread of being back had made his mind fuzzy, but he'd gotten the gist of what she'd been screeching about. It could all be summed up in her parting line as he made his way up the stairs.

"_You just WAIT until your father comes home SIRIUS BLACK!_"

He wondered if that meeting could possibly be as bad as he feared. It was very possible. His father was an unpredictable man. His mother was even more frightened of him than Sirius was.

Sighing, he rolled onto his side and stared out the window at the late evening sky. It was gloomy in his room. None of the house elves had bothered to light his lamps, and all the furniture was covered in dust. The sheets smelled musty and he guessed they hadn't been changed since the events of last summer.

The sky was indigo-blue, fading to black. The stars were just beginning to come out, and the moon was a week from full. Moony would be alone and fretting for the transformation. Sirius felt sick at the thought of it – the blood, the broken bones, the pitiful voice of post-moon Remus begging for him and Sirius trapped here, unable to help.

_Tap-tap-tap._

The knock on his door was so soft he thought for a moment he had imagined it. Then it came again. There was only one person in this Mordred-forsaken house who would bother to knock for him.

"Regulus?" His voice sounded creaky, clogged up with dust and fear.

The door cracked open and Regulus slipped in, holding a flickering candle. He shut the door behind him and stood at the end of Sirius's bed, looking down at him with that perfect pureblood mask he'd been unable to manage when he was younger. He had it down to pat now.

"Why did you come back?" he asked, after a long silence had stretched between them and Sirius showed no sign of breaking it. "You don't belong here."

Sirius felt the helpless rage that lay coiled in his stomach begin to stir. "You think I _wanted_ to?"

Regulus shrugged, his expression not changing. "You could have stayed at that blood-traitor Potter's house. I heard it was his father who broke you out last summer. Dad went mad when he heard." The flatness of the voice gave no indication of the horrific experience that must have been.

"You betrayed me!" Sirius snapped. "Left me in the dark with no candles."

The mask showed a hairline crack and Sirius inwardly rejoiced.

"That was all a long time ago."

"I nearly lost my mind."

"You did lose your mind!" The fire that flared in Regulus's eyes was something that Sirius thought he'd never see again. He'd thought the damp slime of Slytherin house had put it out. He was glad to see it, even if it was directed at him. "What are you thinking of – carrying on with that half-blood, Lupin. A _boy_ for Salazar's sake! You sick, perverted…are you out of your _mind_?"

Sirius turned his head away, suddenly too tired for this argument. "Bugger off, Reg. There's a good lad."

The punch was completely unexpected. It was rather clumsy and uncoordinated, and the way Regulus shook his wrist afterwards led Sirius to belief it had been more painful for him that for Sirius. Still, it made him jump and he turned his head slowly to stare at Regulus.

"Why did you come _back_, you stupid fool!" The mask was completely shattered now and Regulus looked frightened and angry. "You don't know what he'll _do_ to you!"

"_Heir officium_, Reg."

Regulus froze. "What?"

"You know what it is?"

"Of course I bloody know what it is!"

"He cast it on me when I was younger. You know the only way to break it is to be disowned. Until then I have to keep coming back here. And if he hasn't disowned me yet, I have no idea what would make him to do it now."

"But…" Regulus's face look gaunt and waxen in the light of his candle. "No one uses that spell any more. It's illegal."

"Oh come on!" Sirius laughed harshly. "We're the Noble and Moste Ancient house of Black. The rules are above us."

Regulus swore softly. The flame of his candle flickered as his hand shook.

"_Now_ will you leave me alone?" Sirius asked, lying back down and turning to face the window again.

"He's going to _kill _you, Sirius. You've driven him too far this time."

Sirius's smile was grim. "Mischief managed then, little brother."

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Sirius spent the next two days in his room. He'd gone past fretful, was well into worry, and accelerating rapidly towards that weird oasis of calm that comes with long-drawn-out terror. He hadn't heard from Regulus again, but suspected the only reason the house elves brought him food was at his brother's instigation.

When his father finally arrived it was almost a relief – in a bowel-clenchingly awful sort of way. He heard the murmur of voices downstairs, before the volume began to rise and he could make out the words.

"…t's he doing up _there_?" his father bellowed, and Sirius could picture his mother cowering in response. "You should have kept the brat in the cellar until I came home!"

It had been years since Sirius had felt anything resembling fondness for his mother, but the fact that she had allowed him to remain locked in his room rather than the cellar sent an unexpected surge rising up in his belly. He couldn't hear the words of her response. It was quieter pleading and a little hopeless.

"Am I the only person in this house who has _any_ desire to see proper _discipline_ for our sons?" Orion continued, and his voice became louder as he moved towards the stairs. "Get out of the _way_, boy!"

That had to be Regulus, who specialised in hanging round the edges of important events to observe the outcome. Slytherin through and through.

"If you won't discipline the brat properly, Walburga, I'll do it myself! I swear your branch of the family went bad years ago. I should _never _have married you! Look at what your dirty genes have produced."

"Please, Orion…" Sirius heard his mother say He was disgusted by the way her voice was thick with tears and snot and inferiority. Perhaps if she had been able to stand up to her husband, things would not have been so bad. Oh, he knew she would have hated him no matter what, but maybe –

He jumped violently as the footsteps thundered up the stairs and stopped outside his door. It was flung open, cracking back against the wall. Sirius crouched further behind the dubious protection of his bed.

– Maybe he would have had the courage to stand up to him too.

"HOW _DARE _YOU!" The black dragon-hide boots strode around to his side of the bed, and Sirius felt himself being pulled up bodily by his collar. The ironic thing was he was sure he was now taller than his father. However Orion had a strength born of magic and the inherent fear of his family, and the few struggles Sirius's terrified body managed to make were easily controlled by the man.

"BRINGING _MUDBLOODS_ AND _BLOOD TRAITORS_ INTO _MY _HOUSE AND LEAVING WITHOUT _MY _PERMISSION? YOU'RE LUCKY I DON'T _KILL _YOU NOW AND GET IT OVER WITH!" Sirius had very rarely heard his father shout. He usually got cold and quiet when angry. Regulus was right - he had pushed him that bit too far. Orion had snapped and he, Sirius, was going to die.

Sirius was dragged out his room, past his brother who cowered beside the bureau in the hall and down the stairs towards the cellar. When he realized where they were heading, his struggles doubled and he gave up all remnants of Gryffindor bravery as he began screaming and begging for mercy.

"_Mercy?_" Orion laughed. "This _is _mercy, you vile little blood traitor."

Sirius screamed and squirmed all the way down the cellar stairs and all the way along the dark, damp corridor until they reached the wine cellar where, with a burst of magic, Orion tossed him to the back of the dark, stone room. Sirius flew through the air and landed with a crash against the wooden wheelbarrow and wine barrels. The wheelbarrow broke with a shuddering crunch under the pressure, and as the smaller barrels that had been resting on it bumped and clattered to the floor around him, Sirius felt his flailing hand come down on a familiar cloth bag that slipped out from the splintering remains.

He knew this bag, even by feel. It was made of embroidered green velvet and Regulus had used it for years to hide candles, matches, quills and parchment for him down here. There was a piece of parchment pinned to the front. Regulus _did_ care. Oh, Merlin, he _did. _And if his father saw this bag now, his brother would be in for one hell of a punishment.

Under the cover of his squirming and scrambling, Sirius stuffed the little bag down his trousers so his father wouldn't see it.

"You stay there and think about your transgressions, you vile creature," Orion stated coldly, looking down at Sirius with hate-filled eyes. "Two months of summer should do it."

He turned to leave and Sirius desperately tried to scramble after him towards the dim light of the doorway.

"WAIT!"

Both Sirius and Orion froze, heads turning towards the two cowering shapes of Walburga and Regulus silhouetted in the doorway. Sirius thought his heart might explode in horror when he realized it was Regulus who had shouted.

"_What_ did you say?" Orion asked, turned to Regulus slowly. The boy shrunk back against the door frame.

"Th-th-there's s-something you should know. Ab-b-bout Sirius."

Sirius's breath caught in his throat. He wouldn't…

"Well?" Orion leaned closer to his youngest son. "Out with it, boy!"

"H-h-he's g-gay."

There was a long silence in the cellar and Sirius felt himself sway, his vision blackening around the edges.

"He's _what_?" Orion hissed eventually.

"G-gay. H-h-homos-sexual. I saw him k-k-kissing another boy at s-school."

Another silence, then Orion roared. There was no other word for it. There were no words, just a powerful and violent explosion of all-encompassing rage.

"No…son…of…mine_!_" He managed to choke out. "_Vile…dirty…MONSTER…CRUCIO!"_

The pain was indescribable, but just before it hit, just after his father had uttered the words, "No son of mine", Sirius had felt _something_ - something invisible, something magical – rise from his shoulders.

_No son of mine. _His father must have meant the words enough that they were strong enough to break the _heir officium_ spell. Then there was no space in his mind for thought, only the burning, searing agony that seemed to reach every part of his body. Sirius would have done or promised _anything_ to make it stop, if he could have found the words around the screams that ripped from his throat.

It went on and on and on…

Then it stopped, quite suddenly. Sirius turned his head slowly and creakily to his…oh Merlin…his _mother_ clinging onto Orion's wand hand with all her weight. She was screeching something about 'Ministry' and 'Unforgivable' and '_Not worth it!'._

And then there were small hands under his arms, trying to lever him to his feet, and that genetic Slytherin part of Sirius that was desperate for survival at all costs struggled to help those little arms drag him around the struggling figures of his mother and father, up the cellar stairs, through the kitchen, into the hall, and out of the front door. Sirius was shoved and herded down the front path and out onto the street where he collapsed onto the pavement, muscles burning and twitching with the after effects of the pain curse.

"Here," Regulus said tearfully, shoving something into Sirius's pocket. "Now get out of here."

"I …can't…walk," Sirius wheezed, his throat torn and his voice hoarse from screaming.

"Apparate, then, you fool. You're a bloody wizard!"

"Splinch," Sirius managed.

"I don't think it can possibly be any worse than what Dad'll do if he finds you out here."

And Sirius really couldn't argue with that. He had no idea how to apparate, but he had powerful magic, desperation and the knowledge of how to do the animagus transformation on his side - wandless magic that encompassed his whole body.

Regulus reached out and touched his face. "Go, you stupid Gryffindor."

Sirius managed the smallest smile for him. Then he concentrated as hard as he could. His skin tingled, then his whole body. The tingle turned to a burn and his skin seemed to shrink, leaving him with the sensation of being squeezed through a rubber tube. Blood pounded in his ears, his breath caught in his throat and there was a loud crack.

Sirius fell from a rainy sky and hit the ground hard, dropping into unconsciousness.


	70. Revelations from a Black Past

**Disclaimer:**** Everyone knows these fabulous characters belong to JK Rowling**

**Thanks for all the wonderful reviews. I have got to the stage where I only reply to the long ones now, but I'm really grateful for them all. I love hearing from you. Thanks also to Xx The Grey Lady xX (my beta from my other story) who stood in as beta while Hydraspit was away. Both these ladies rock my socks and my stories wouldn't be the same without them.**

**M x**

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**REMU****S**

It was late evening, and Neil and Angela had given up on trying to draw Remus out of himself after he'd snapped at Neil's hand when he got too close. It was now two days before the full moon, and Moony was evident in every gesture he made, every breath he took, howling for Padfoot in Remus's mind.

Remus-the-human wasn't in much better shape. He'd spent nearly every moment since arriving home for the summer in front of the living room fireplace, pacing up and down like a caged animal, and willing the flames to flare green and announce that Sirius had escaped and was safely ensconced with the Potters.

At night – particularly as the full moon drew closer and he was no longer strong enough pace – he'd curl up on the sofa in front of the fire, limbs twitching restlessly and eyes half-mast as he watched the orange flames lick the grate. Remus had not suffered pre-transformation symptoms this severely for a long time. He was only vaguely aware of Angela and Neil's worried presences hovering in the background, helpless and frustrated.

It was perhaps particularly ironic, then, that when James's head finally made an appearance in the living room fireplace late that evening, Remus was on one of his rare toilet breaks. His heightened hearing picked up the roar of green flames, and he fumbled to finish and yank up his pyjama bottoms before he stumbled from the bathroom.

His limbs were moon-weak and trembly, and he cursed them as he staggered down the hall to the living room. With the wolf this close to the surface, he felt as though his body was a marionette he had to control, even though most of its strings were cut and someone had made its hands and feet out of lead.

"…nk Merlin you're here," he could hear Angela saying. _"We don't know what to do with him anymore…just sits in front of the fire…growls when we try to approach_…_"_

He couldn't hear James's reply clearly over the crackle of flames and the roaring of his own blood in his head. He half-fell into the living room and mostly crawled the rest of the way to the fireplace.

"Good Godric, Moony," James said, eyeing him with shock. "You look like crap."

"Is it Sirius?" Remus said. "Is he okay?"

"He escaped," James assured him. "He's here."

"Is he okay?" Even in this state, Remus wasn't stupid enough to miss the evasion of that question.

James hesitated. "He's getting there."

"What happened?"

"He got disowned."

"What? _How?_"

James's eyes flicked to Neil and Angela who were hovering over Remus's shoulder. "Er…I gather that Regulus told his Dad that he – you know – chased for the other Quidditch team."

Remus wasn't quite together enough at that moment to register the double meaning of that statement. He stared at James blankly.

James grimaced. "Work with me, Moony. He told his Dad that Sirius, you know, preferred boys."

"Oh. _Oh._ Oh Merlin, what happened? Let me _through._" Remus launched himself towards the green flames and James's hand emerged beside his head to shove him back.

"Watch it! You'll hurt me, Rem. I told you, he's fine. His Dad...hurt him a bit, but he's really okay. Regulus got him out."

Remus thrust his hands into the flames on either side of James's head. "_Please_ let me through. _Please, please._"

"Okay, okay, fine. Merlin's balls, Rem. At least let me move out the way first. Hang on."

As soon as James's head disappeared, Remus scrambled through the open floo connection, landing on the opulent Persian rug that decorated the parlor hearth of Potter Manor. Glancing round the huge room, Remus hoped they hadn't ensconced Sirius too far away as he wasn't sure his trembling limbs were up to the task of a dozen staircases.

"C'mon, Moony," James said, slotting an angular shoulder beneath Remus's arm and hoisting him to his feet. "Let's get you up to see him before you hex someone."

Remus leaned on him gratefully, as always surprised by the strength James managed to hide in his gangly, long-limbed body.

"You can come, too," James said to the Anders who had stopped through behind Remus. His voice was a little clipped, and Remus vaguely remembered James's worry that his father's safety might be jeopardized by the Ander's possible alliance to Voldemort, being Neil's Auror partner. He wished he had the strength to feel guilty.

It took a frustratingly long time to make their way to the room Sirius always used when he stayed with the Potters. When they finally stepped in the door Remus felt his insides do an odd lurching thing – half in joy at seeing Sirius, half in horror at his state.

The other boy was as pale as bone, his black hair a contrasting inky spill over the white pillowcase. What disturbed Remus the most was how neatly he lay. When Sirius slept, he sprawled; limbs careless and haphazard, mouth open, bedclothes twisted. The way he lay now – on his back with his arms parallel to his sides – was unnatural. His breathing was shallow, and every now and then, his arms or legs twitched in a way that Remus was very familiar with. It was the sign of muscle spasms brought on by a worn-out body desperately riding out the remnants of an incredibly painful experience.

Remus's own arm twitched in sympathy, and the knowledge of what was the most likely cause of the twitching slotted itself into his mind.

"_Cruciatus_," he murmured, swaying against James's shoulder.

"Clever lad." Mr. Potter's clipped voice made Remus yelp, his moon-humming body automatically trying to twist into a protective crouch towards the man in the doorway.

"Easy, Moony. It's just my dad."

"He doesn't trust me," Remus growled, smelling the pepper-hot emotion clearly with his heightened senses.

"_Dad_." James's voice was sharp.

"I'm sorry, James, but I find it odd that a sixteen-year-old boy can recognize the signs of a Dark curse from ten feet away."

Remus bared his teeth. "I know the effects of Dark curses _intimately_." With one hand he ripped open his own shirt in a gesture that was more lupine that human. James struggled to hold him up as he shrugged off the sleeves. Some part of him at the back of his mind begged him to remember that he hated showing his battered body to anyone, but the wolf was too close for him for it to have any effect.

There was silence in the room as Mr. Potter and Mrs. Potter, who had appeared beside him, stared at his upper body. He wondered what they thought of what they saw – the cross-hatching of scars that were too deep for the potion to remove, the newer ones, still flushed pink, the constant tremors and twitches of his muscles and skin pulled tight over sharp bones. He wondered how they could be anything but disgusted or pitying.

"Remus," Angela started, making an abortive move towards him.

"_No__,_" he snapped. "This is what I am." He looked towards Mr. Potter, who was still staring.

There was a small sound from the bed, and Remus's attention was immediately focused there. He shook James off and stumbled forward, falling to his knees beside the bed and reaching out a hand towards Sirius's pain-lined face.

"Moony," James murmured into his ear, kneeling beside him and catching his wrist. "My parents don't know about you and Pads. Please don't shock them again. I don't think my poor Dad's heart is up to it."

"But…" Hadn't James said that Regulus revealing that Sirius was gay was the whole reason behind all this?

"They don't know what Regulus said," James muttered under his breath. "I love them to bits, but they're a little old-fashioned."

Remus hesitated, then settled for resting his hand on top of Sirius's. People who were friends were allowed to do that, weren't they?

"Sorry," James whispered, even more softly.

"D-did you go and g-g-get him?" Remus asked. Now he had Sirius within his reach, the wolf calmed down and settled to silent pacing. All the other questions he had rushed back to the forefront of his mind. Along with the damn stutter. That was obviously a human thing.

"No." Oddly, it was Mrs. Potter who spoke. Leaving the other adults in the doorway, she moved to the opposite side of the bed. She looked much older that Remus remembered her – the stress of the war and worry over Sirius obviously having taken its toll. Her wine-coloured hair was liberally streaked in grey, and deep lines were scored into the corners of her eyes and mouth. "He Apparated here."

"Apparated?"

"Yeah," James said. "I think he was aiming for our house, but we have wards up, so he sort of rebounded off them and landed on the ground outside the main gates. He left his shirt, a large hunk of hair and both eyebrows behind. Mum had to grow them back for him because he kept complaining."

"He was awake?"

"Not at first. We're not sure when he arrived. Once of the house elves found him unconscious outside a few hours ago. We brought him in and called Madame Pomfrey. He woke up after she left, told me what happened, complained about his eyebrows, asked for you and blacked out again."

"He's going to b-be okay?"

"He's going to be okay, Moony."

Sirius mumbled in his sleep and tossed his head in Remus's direction. The hand beneath his flexed and half-turned so Sirius's little finger hooked round his thumb. Remus tried not to react too obviously.

"Have you told Pete?"

"No. I went straight to you. I'll go and send him an owl now, shall I?"

Remus nodded, unable to drag his eyes away from Sirius's face. "Yeah. It's nice to have all the pack around when you're feeling rotten. It's…safe."

"Remus?" Mrs. Potter's voice said.

It was a few long moments before some manner-driven part of his exhausted brain reminded him that he had to look up when someone said his name.

"Would you like to stay here?"

Before Remus could answer, Neil stepped forward. "It's the full moon tomorrow night. It's best if he's home."

The idea of leaving Sirius made Remus's heart beat frantically. He stared up at Mrs. Potter, trying to make his face as pleading as possible.

"Well…" she said, unable to resist her motherly instincts. "We've got a very sturdy basement…"

"Adelaide," Mr. Potter murmured.

"He _asked_ for Remus," she said stubbornly. "I see no reason why he shouldn't stay."

"Remus?" Angela's gentle fingers ran through his hair, the calming gesture at odds with her nightgown, which flash green-red-yellow at dizzying speeds. "It should be up to you, love. Do you want to stay?"

It was obvious she didn't want him to, but she did her best to hide it.

"I…" He glanced sideways to Mr. Potter. He didn't want to impose on his home if he was uncomfortable around werewolves.

To his surprise, the man looked rather ashamed. "You're welcome to stay, lad," he said gruffly. "You must forgive me. I am an old man who is set in his ways. It takes me a while to switch to a new track."

Remus guessed that was an apology. "Then if you d-don't mind, I would like to stay."

Angela's face fell, but she squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "If Madame Pomfrey is coming round to check on Sirius, perhaps she can heal you up afterwards as well."

Remus nodded, his attention already focused on Sirius again.

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"Moony?"

Remus's mind drifted back to consciousness, along with the stiff heaviness in his limbs which indicated that as soon as he moved, he would be in agony. He remained still, his eyes closed, his arms and legs pulled up against his body to allow him to fit into the armchair beside Sirius's bed.

"Don't wake him," James's voice said, a short way away. "Let him sleep today. It'll be full moon tonight, and he worked himself into a right state. Thought he was going to attack my father at one point."

"What?" Sirius's voice was creaky and rough. "Why?"

"You know my dad. He's great, but sometimes he doesn't think before he says things."

"Yeah. I noticed that genetic trait in the Potter family."

There was the creak of bedsprings, then the soft _whump_ and muffled "Ow!" of someone being punched in retribution. It was followed by a long silence in which Remus' canine side sensed eyes watching him.

"What's he doing for the transformation?" Sirius's voice asked.

"Staying here. My dad and Anders have been putting up wards in the basement."

"I don't want him to be locked in the basement," Sirius said sharply.

"There's no other options, mate. Here, let me help you sit up."

"I can sit up fine myself, thanks. I'm not paralyzed. You're turning into your mother with all your fussing, Potter."

"You're a git of a patient. No wonder Pomfrey always lets you out the Hospital Wing sooner than the rest of us. You must drive her spare."

"I'm bored of being in bed. I hate not doing anything. I want to go out and ride Moonshadow."

James snorted. "Great Merlin in a mop cap, please tell me you haven't named your bike Moonshadow, you big pouf."

"It's a Vincent Black Shadow," Sirius said defensively. "It's a perfectly logical name to have come up with."

Remus wished he had the energy to smile. He felt as though he were floating two feet above his own head, tethered there by the stiffening pain in his limbs.

"Well, you can't anyway," James said, and Remus heard both Sirius and the bedsprings protesting as he flung himself back on the bed. "Madam Pomfrey would hex you to the bed for a week."

There was another contemplative silence, then; "Do you think he's comfortable there? He looks all scrunched up. Can we move him over here? Why didn't someone move him to a bed?" Sirius sounded very anxious, and Remus wanted to reassure him. His moon-heavy limbs protested at the idea.

"Have you tried to move Moony from where he wants to be on the day of the full moon?" James asked wryly. "He almost bit my hand off for suggesting he might be cutting off blood circulation to your hand with all his clinging earlier. I like having ten fingers."

"I don't mind his clinging. He looks so small. Does he look small to you? You don't think he's shrinking, do you? Maybe we should get him a blanket. Does he look cold to you?"

"Relax, mate. You're the ill one. Moony's just got PMS. And he's not cold. It's mid-summer for Godric's sake."

Remus almost opened his eyes and moved then, just so he could punch James. Only the prospect of the painful rush of blood to his seized-up arms and legs stopped him.

There was a restless shifting on the bed, and the sound of someone drumming their fingers on the bedside table.

"I really love him, you know," Sirius said suddenly.

If Remus wasn't already dead still, he would have frozen.

James cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Yeah, Padfoot. I'm not blind."

"No, I mean I _really_ love him. Not just fancy him. You know how you can tell?"

There was an uncomfortable squirming rustle from James. "Er…how?"

"Because when my father cast the pain curse on me, it wiped everything from my mind except him. I know it sounds stupid and girly, but it's true. I couldn't have told you what House I was in, or who my mother was, or even what my own name was, but I would have recognized Moony in an instant."

Remus suddenly felt guilty and awful for eavesdropping on the conversation. Sirius shouldn't be saying something like this without knowing Remus was listening. At the same time, something inside his chest bloomed sunset-gold and swelled so large it was painful.

"Shouldn't you be telling him this?" James asked, sounding slightly panicked.

"I don't want to scare him off. Besides, he's asleep."

"So you decided to declare your undying love for him to me instead?"

"Aw…I love you, too, Prongs. You're the idiotic inbred brother I might have enjoyed having to put up with. Though I guess Regulus wasn't too bad, in the end. Stupid little misguided kid that he is." There was a meaningful pause, then; "I'm serious – don't say it. That joke got old ages ago - Why do you think I came here? You Potters are my family. You know that, right?"

"I know that you're a right sappy sod when you're dosed up on painkilling potions." James's voice was embarrassed and fond at the same time.

"Piss off."

"Speaking of Regulus," James put in quickly, obviously as relieved as Remus for the change of subject, "Madame Pomfrey found this down your trousers when she was dressing you after your healing. I wouldn't touch it until she cast a cleaning charm on it."

"Please don't tell me things like that. I'm going to be scarred by the image of Pomfrey's hand down my trousers for – _oh. _Oh, Reg."

That grief-cracked tone of voice was the only thing that could induce Remus to move, and his eyes shot open as his limbs twitched and spasmed. He pressed his lips together against the pain.

Sirius and James were leaning over something in Sirius's hands, something made from green velvet.

"Pads?" Remus croaked. "Y'a'right?"

"Moony!" Sirius looked up, his eyes sparking silver-grey in the morning light. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm sure I should be asking you that." Remus smiled and tried not to move too much.

"Come here. Help him over, Prongs."

James slid off the bed and stepped over to half-drag Remus over to join them. Remus stepped gingerly, feet clumsy and uncoordinated.

"I've got pins and needles in places I didn't even know I had."

Sirius smiled and pulled him down onto the bed, gathering him close to his side. "S'good to see you, Moony."

Remus thought of the earlier conversation. "It's not just fancying for me either, you know," he mumbled, ducking his head to study the pattern on the bedcover.

"I can still hear you," James put in. "I'm not just an attractive Adonis-like statue put in here to improve the decor."

Sirius ignored him. He was staring at Remus. "You heard?" His cheeks flared pink in a rare blush. "You always were a sneaky little bugger."

"You always were a flaming pansy," Remus retorted, lips tugging into a smile. "Look at this bedspread – lilac paisley. Very classy."

"I borrowed it off Prongs."

James flushed at their sniggering. "It was a present from my Great Aunt Matilda. She's a hundred and thirteen. I couldn't turn it down."

"Whatever would Evans say if she knew you liked lilac paisley?"

"Shut it, you tosser."

Sirius grinned and sought round for something to throw at his friend. His hand came down on what Remus now saw was an embroidered green velvet bag. The grin faded.

"What is it?" Remus asked gently.

"Nothing. It's stupid. Just an old bag that had expensive chocolates in once. Reg used to use it to put candles and parchment and stuff in for me when I was down in the cellar."

Remus hesitated, then held out a hand to Sirius, silently asking for permission to look at the bag. For a moment he thought Sirius would refuse, but then he sighed and handed it over. On the front of the bag, a note was attached very loosely with a rusty safety pin. It was written on a scrap of torn parchment, and was so smudged and grimy it was barely readable.

_Sirius,_

_Happy holidays. Yet another summer you get to spend down here in the cellar for antagonizing Mum. You'll be sorry when you take it too far one day. Still, don't worry. Only two more summers to go counting this one. Then you can get away for good._

_I'll try send Kreacher down with food._

_RAB_

"Two summers to go?" Remus looked up at Sirius's face, searching for explanations. "That means he wrote it last summer, not this one." He didn't add, "_And you told me he hadn't left you any candles last summer. You told me he had betrayed you."_

He could see the words forming behind Sirius's eyes anyway.

"He used to hide the bag on this wooden wheelbarrow my father stored barrels on at the back of the cellar," Sirius said, his voice emotionless in the way that a mask shows none of the feelings of the person wearing it. "I would find it by feel in the dark. It must have slipped out of the normal hiding place." He gave a slightly hysterical laugh. "You know what the awful thing is? I remember when I was searching for it, my hand brushed a piece of torn parchment. It must have been this note. If I had reached a few inches further…"

…_I would have found the candles. I wouldn't have spent weeks alone and terrified in the dark. I wouldn't have gone crazy, drunk to much wine without thinking, gotten addicted, betrayed you by telling Snape how to get past the Willow, hated and cursed Regulus all year at school, turned my own brother against me…_

The words hovered, unsaid, in the pale morning air between them.

Sirius laughed again. "All for the sake of a couple of inches."

"A couple of inches may as well be a mile, sometimes," Remus said softly. "A couple of inches to the right and the werewolf would have missed biting me before my mother blasted him off me. A dagger in the chest only has to pierce a couple of inches to reach the heart. _Avada Kedavra_ only has to miss by a couple of inches for a life to be saved."

"I'm so _stupid_." Sirius's voice was fierce.

"You weren't to know." James slung an arm around Sirius's shoulders. "There's nothing you can do now, mate."

Sirius scowled and picked at the paisley pattern on the bedspread.

"How're you going to get all your school things?" Remus asked, in an effort to change the subject. "You can borrow mine, if you like."

Sirius glanced up and managed a smile for him. "No, it's all good. Reg must've been planning what he did for a while. He had my trunk all packed up and shrunk. He'd half-filled it with galleons, too. He stuffed it into my pocket before I left. My parents will have a fit if they find out. I hope he's okay."

"He's the heir now," James said. "They can't afford to lose another one. They have no more spares. He'll be fine."

Remus stared at him, shocked by his callousness. Sirius, on the other hand, seemed to relax and sent James a much more genuine smile. "Yeah, you're right. He'll be okay. He's a sneaky little bugger, too." He winked at Remus.

Sometimes, Remus thought, he honestly believed he'd never understand how purebloods worked – even the disowned ones.


	71. Riding Moonshadow

**SIRIUS:**

Over the next day as Sirius began to feel better and better, Remus began to get proportionately worse. Sirius hated the idea of locking him the Potter's cellar without company, but there was no way he, James and Peter could risk being found out to be illegal Animagus.

"You need to make sure Madame Pomfrey comes in first thing to see to him," Sirius told Mrs. Potter.

"She'll see to him as soon as she's checked you over," Mrs. Potter straightened his bedcovers in a motherly fashion. Although Sirius felt fine, she refused to let him out of bed for another day.

Sirius shook his head. "No. I mean _first_ thing. You don't know how bad it's going to be. If she doesn't heal him as soon as the moon sets, he could _die_."

"Come now, Sirius. He lives through full moons every month of his life. I'm sure he'll be fine."

Gritting his teeth, Sirius told himself sternly that it wasn't her fault that she didn't know how heartless she was being.

"Remember a couple of years ago when you asked me what illness Remus had, and whether it was fatal?" he asked instead.

Mrs. Potter sighed. "Yes, I do remember."

"And I told you it could be, yeah?"

"And you were right. Many people are killed when they're attacked by a wolf, rather than just being transformed."

"That's not what I meant." Sirius's hands clenched at his bedcovers until his knuckles went white. "Every full moon, Remus locks himself up and sits there waiting for the transformation _knowing_ that this is the month he might not survive. I've seen him after the full moon hundreds of times. I've seen him with bruises so huge you can hardly tell what colour skin he has. I've seen him with flesh gnawed up so badly it looks like minced meat. I've seen him with bones so badly broken they're poking through his skin, or ribs so badly smashed they've punctured his lungs. One time he nearly chewed his whole right hand off. Madame Pomfrey didn't even know if she'd even be able to save it. It's been better over the last few months, because the wolf has gotten to know his environment. But tonight he'll be in a whole new place."

Mrs. Potter had grown still half way through Sirius's rant. Now she sat down carefully in the chair beside his bed, her graying auburn hair wispy around her drawn face. "I suppose I didn't really think of it like that."

Sirius picked at a loose nail on his left hand. "When you see how strong he is, and how smart and mature he is, you don't think about the fact that he's still just a boy like us. Because he does it every month, it's easy to forget how serious it is. The truth is that he just doesn't have a choice."

Mrs. Potter's hand came down to cover his. "I'm sorry, love."

Sirius laughed shortly. "Why? You didn't do anything."

Mrs. Potter straightened her shoulders and stood up, the air of brisk efficiency returning to her. "I'll just go give Madame Pomfrey a floo, then." She paused by the door. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Remus is lucky to have friends like you."

Sirius felt himself relax and he smiled properly, making shooing gestures with his hands. "Out, out, woman. Your flattery and motherly wiles won't work on me."

"Watch that tone, young man!"

Sirius winked at her and she smiled back before leaving the room.

* * *

Childlike Remus's moods were as interchangeable as adult Remus's, and the one he was in when Sirius arrived out of breath and shaky to his room, was Sirius's least favourite.

Remus huddled, swathed in bandages and curled under his covers, eyeing the room's other occupants warily. His face was pale and feral, the skin pulled tight over sharp cheekbones, a deep scratch marring one temple.

"He keeps snarling and backing away when we try to go to him," James told Sirius. He, Peter, Angela, Mrs. Potter and Madame Pomfrey were crowded together at the other side of the room to Remus's bed. "He really didn't like it when my dad was in here, so he and Professor Anders have gone down to make breakfast."

"Burn breakfast," Mrs. Potter murmured absently, her eyes still on Remus.

"Alpha male," Sirius said, as he approached the bed.

"What?" James asked, at the same time as his mother said, "I wouldn't, Sirius."

"Mr. Potter's the Alpha male, here," Sirius explained. "The wolf sees him as threatening my place in the pack, I reckon. Don't you, Moony?"

Remus lowered the covers a little and stared at Sirius with wide eyes. "Pads?"

Sirius carefully sat on the bed and held out his hand to Remus coaxingly. "That's right. Padfoot. And Prongs and Wormtail are over there, look. You've been growling at them."

Remus dipped his head forward and sniffed delicately at Sirius's hand. "Pack." He nuzzled his face against Sirius's palm. "Moony hurt," he whimpered.

"I know. I'm sorry." Sirius glanced back at James and Peter. "Come here, lads."

Madame Pomfrey kept Angela and Mrs. Potter back as the boys stepped towards the bed. "They're a pack to him," she said apologetically. "We'll just upset him."

"I don't understand," Mrs. Potter said, as James and Peter sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to brush careful hands over Remus's bandaged arms. "Why didn't he growl at Sirius?"

Sirius avoided James's and Peter's eyes as Peter told her, "He's the alpha. Moony trusts him more than anyone."

"Pads…"

Sirius steadied Remus as the other boy attempted to climb into his lap. He was really getting too big for this (especially since it often resulted in many of Sirius's vital limbs falling asleep, followed by painful bouts of pins and needles), but Sirius never had the heart to deny child-like Remus anything. He could only be thankful that Remus was still so slight for his age.

"What is it, Moony?" Sirius asked, trying to maneuver Remus's right elbow away from his ribcage.

"'Edge'og. Moony edge'og."

Peter had been given the task of taking care of Hamish for the night, and he reached down to pull the hedgehog out of his robe pocket and placed him on the bed. Remus reached out a clumsy hand to stroke Hamish's red and gold spines.

"Wolf no eat?"

"No Rem." Sirius reached out to steady Remus's hand. "You know we would never let Moony eat Hamish."

Remus shook his head and looked up at Sirius earnestly. "No Moony wolf. Big watching wolf. Not in shut-up room." He gestured towards the window. "Outside."

Sirius exchanged a startled glance with James and Peter, even as the women by the door stepped forward in alarm.

"There was another wolf, Moony?"

"Big wolf," Remus said. "Outside. Moony scent."

The basement the Potters had allowed Remus to use had a small grated window near the top of one of the walls. Sirius could only assume Remus meant he'd smelled the other wolf through it. And this _was_ Remus, Sirius realised. Adult-Remus desperately trying to relay important information filtered through his childish post-moon self. If another werewolf had managed to get through the wards…

"Adalaide!"

Everyone jumped as Mr. Potter and Neil rushed into the room. Remus gave a small yelp and burrowed into Sirius's chest fearfully.

"Quietly, please, Harold," Mrs. Potter admonished her husband.

"Sorry," he said, lowering his voice a bit and casting a shocked eye over Remus's and Sirius's rather intimate position.

"He's not in his right mind," Madame Pomfrey said sharply.

"Of course," Mr. Potter said, shaking his head as though to clear it. "Adelaide, the wards were breached last night. You know there was that damage where Sirius hit them when he Apparated in? Well someone managed to literally punch right through last night. We followed the trail and we think it was a –"

"Werewolf," Mrs. Potter finished for him.

Mr. Potter and Neil stared at her.

"Remus just told us."

"Big wolf. Call Moony. Come, come," Remus added. He was trembling nervously against Sirius, and Sirius knew that if adult-Remus weren't trying so hard, childlike-Remus would have remained quiet, desperate not to attract the attention of non-pack members.

"Come where?" Neil asked his adopted son gently.

"Come moon-run. Dark Alpha let wolf be free."

"Dark Alpha?"

Remus whimpered as Neil took a step closer and buried his face. He refused to say anymore, or to even move again until all the adults had left the room.

* * *

Sirius looked up from his Quidditch magazine as Remus stirred in his bed. His skinny limbs shifted and stretched beneath the covers and his eyes opened briefly, then screwed shut again.

"Okay, own up," Remus mumbled, his voice hoarse and muffled. "Who killed a hamster and stuffed it in my mouth while I was sleeping?"

"Feeling rough, Moony?" Peter asked, from where he was sprawled on the floor trying to charm the carpet red with gold snitches. Right now it was lead-grey with snot blotches and showing definite signs of staying that way.

"Blergh," Remus said feelingly. His eyes sought out Sirius who dropped his magazine and shifted forward to sit beside Remus on the bed.

"Alright?" he asked, glancing at Peter before covering Remus's hand with his own. "It was a nasty transformation. Mini-you was really not happy."

"I had…" Remus's eyes widened and he tried to sit up. "There was something…I needed to tell you about something that h-happened . I can't r-remember…"

Sirius reached out to press him back to the bed. "It's okay. You told us. About the wolf."

"Wolf, yes." Remus grabbed Sirius's arm with painfully strong fingers and Sirius tried not to wince too obviously. "Outside the window. Calling me."

"Do you know what it wanted?" Peter asked, coming over to join them.

Remus's face screwed up as he struggled to remember and Sirius wished he could tell him it didn't matter.

"It's hard. I kept telling the story to post-moon me to try and help me remember." He gave a wry smile. "Pass it through the middle man, you know? He wanted me to come with him. He said there was a …big pack. A strong alpha. He kept talking about blood and how two-legs – humans – were going to become prey and food for us. H-he was promising that I could…I could…"

Sirius felt a fine trembling hum through Remus's body and he stroked his back. "It's okay, Moony. You don't have to say."

Remus shook his head violently, wincing as he aggravated his injuries. "No, I m-must." He took a steadying breath as Sirius slipped him arm around him. "He said that I would be able to get back at my f-f-father."

There was a long silence, then Peter cleared his throat. "Get back at your father?"

"Take r-revenge on him for what he did when I was a cub – a ch-child."

Sirius's quick brain was translating everything so it fit and made sense in his head. The wolf – whoever he was – knew about Remus in great detail. He knew that Remus was a werewolf, knew about his father, had links to a big werewolf pack who planned to keep humans as a prey…

Remus's eyes were on Sirius, watching, with relief, as Sirius worked through the information on his own.

"Remember," Remus said, "that the intruder was l-limited in what he could say. The c-canine vocabulary…well, you know what it's like."

And then it all fell into place. If one translated wolf-language into human speech then…

"Greyback," Sirius breathed.

Remus's breath hitched and his hands flew up to press against his face. "Greyback."

"Greyback?" Peter's face was bemused, and James chose that moment to saunter into the room, his head jerking in Peter's direction as he said the name.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"The wolf," Sirius said. "The one that visited Moony last night. It was Greyback. He knew about Remus's lycanthropy and his father and stuff. He was talking about a giant pack with an alpha who would take control of humans to use as prey. But it was canine-speak. I think he must have been talking about – "

"Voldemort," James said, nodding. "Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

Sirius nodded as Peter went deathly pale and clutched at the bed post. He looked as though he was going to vomit, and Sirius remembered how badly the incident with Rowen and her dead mother had affected him. Peter still could not bring himself to eat meat which he had taken to calling 'burnt corpses'.

"He wanted me to join them," Remus said, his voice a little stronger in the face of Peter's fear. "He was offering me the chance to become 'part of the pack' and t-take revenge on my father. That's how I knew w-who it was. Greyback h-hated my father. The reason he attacked my Mum and me was in r-revenge for the fact my father got him put in the high sec-c-urity ward for the insane at St. Mungo's."

"I don't get it," Peter whispered. "Why would he want you, of all people, to join him. You're just a kid."

"I'm sixteen."

"That _is_ just a kid."

Remus sighed and reached out to pick a big steel potions spoon off his bedside table. With one hand and seemingly no effort his clenched his fist and the heavy metal bucked and scrunched under the extraordinary pressure. In a few seconds it had been reduced to a crumpled, silvery ball.

"Right," Peter said faintly.

"If Voldemort can get all the werewolves – and any other dark creatures," James shot an apologetic look at Remus, "who might be discriminated against on his side. Well – he'll have a pretty unstoppable army, won't he?"

"And Greyback thought he had good leverage for getting Moony on his side," Sirius said.

"Leverage!" Remus gave a slightly hysterical laugh. "The man took my mother from me. My father. My childhood. My _life._ If it wasn't for you lot I'd be nothing."

Sirius wanted to protest at that, but his mind threw up a vivid image of Remus in their first year – tiny, alone, half-starved of both food and affection, resigned and broken to such an extent that he still bore the scars – both physical and psychological. He wondered how different Remus would have been if Greyback had never attacked.

"We need to tell my Dad about this," James said. "The Aurors should know."

"How did we get sucked into something so serious and life-threatening?" Sirius pressed Remus's curled form closer to his side. "I miss the days when all we worried about was the next prank and when our transfiguration homework was due in."

"I think it's called 'growing up," Remus said, calmer now he had relayed his information, fighting back the stutter. "in a war."

"A war," Peter murmured. "Is that what this is?"

"That's what it's going to be. I can smell it in the air. Like vinegar."

No one could argue with Remus's sense of smell.

* * *

The mood in the Potter household was dark in the following days. Remus's recovery was very slow and his eyes remained haunted. Peter jumped at small noises and retched when he smelled cooking meat. James spent much of his time bothering his father for information about his work against Voldemort's increasing threat and the Death Eaters.

Sirius's disinheritance seemed to have been pushed to the back of everyone else's mind, while it still preyed heavily on his own. Sometimes, the knowledge that he had turned against everything he had been raised to believe – against his own _blood_ – seemed to swell inside him until he thought he might burst like a fermenting apple.

When this happened, he escaped the other Marauders and made his way out to the little outbuilding the Potters had allowed him to store his motorbike in. Sometimes he just tinkered with Moonshadow, layering charms and spells in a complicated web over the bike as he worked towards getting her to fly. Other times, much to Mr. and Mrs. Potter's worry and consternation, he would take Moonshadow out and ride her furiously around Potter Manor's extensive grounds, bumping over rough ground and skidding in the gravel until the sun sank and faded from the sky.

Sometimes, his canine-self felt Remus's eyes on him from the veranda or the summer house or one of the numerous windows of the manor house. Remus never came out to meet Sirius at these times. He knew not to.

He and Sirius had been a part of one-another's lives for so long they knew each other's quirks and foibles inside out. They knew all the little things that delighted or irritated one another. How Remus was too proud to accept money, but too polite to refuse a gift of chocolate. How Sirius was allowed to complain about his brother, but no one else was allowed to agree or disagree. When Remus was hunched over a book reading furiously, Sirius couldn't disturb him, but if he was reading calmly with his chin resting on his palm, he was free game. Sirius would share anything with the other Marauders except for his socks which he wouldn't wear unless they were perfectly unmarked and unstained. Remus would not get in the shower if there was someone else's hair sticking to the wall or the floor. Sirius was not ticklish, but if Remus scratched his fingers through his hair he will turn to Padfoot-goop.

All these little things had made Sirius believe they were completely inseparable, but at the same time, he felt so distanced from pre-summer Sirius, he was no longer sure if this was true. He felt dark and lost, and at times, it seemed as though the very blood in his veins was rebelling against him.

Sirius loved the Potters, but he had a secret, deeply ingrained fear that one day they would look at him and see all the things that made him a Black, rather than all the things that he desperately tried to make him 'Sirius'. An even more secret, but even more deeply ingrained fear he had, was that one day Remus would turn and look at him with suspicion and hate and derision. If that happened, Sirius genuinely didn't think he could survive that experience psychologically intact.

A week after the full moon, Sirius was once again astride Moonshadow, skimming over the bumpy surface of one of the fields adjacent to Potter Manor, his ride made smoother by the many lightening and hovering charms already magically lacing the motorbike's gleaming surface.

It was late evening, and the sun had almost set, a watery orange smudge on the western horizon, the only remnant of the passing day. The air had a crisp tang to it that tasted like the first thread of autumn – dry leaves and blackberries. It reminded Sirius of Remus's scent. Remus – who had tried to talk to Sirius earlier that evening about his odd, erratic behaviour. Remus, whom Sirius had snapped at before stalking out the room.

He'd felt the other boy's resigned gaze on his back as he left the house and the guilt that churned in his belly made him even more angry and frustrated.

It wasn't long before the last streak of orange disappeared and the sky turned a deep, inky indigo. The moon was almost exactly half-full and hung like a broken sickle against the darkness, flanked by the surrounding stars. There was little other light in the field and when Sirius glanced down as he rode, he could see the dim outline of his moonshadow flickering over the grass. The sight made something in his chest twist as an image of a much younger Remus rose in his mind, skinny and wrapped in darkness as he wished on blood and moonshadows.

Sirius slowed his bike to a halt and propped it up under a tree in the corner of the field. Feeling half-stupid and half-daring, he shuffled out from under the tree and into the dim light, kneeling down so he could make out the edges of his moonshadow against the grass. Because the moon was only half-full, the outline was fuzzy, but he could make out the edges if he tried.

Everything Remus had wished on a moonshadow had come true, Sirius thought. As messy, as _desperate_ as those pleas had been, they had all come true in one way or another. Perhaps there _was_ something to the childish and rather gruesome moonshadow magic Remus had invented when he wasn't old enough to know the dangers of such things.

Right now, when foreign werewolves invaded the manor, Voldemort recruited from school, little girls' parents died in alleys and Sirius's blood threatened to rebel against him, it seemed as though anything was worth a try.

"_I'm being followed by a moonshadow," _he murmured, knowing that if he tried to sing the words, his voice was bound to ruin the atmosphere. _"And if I ever lose my eyes, if my colour all runs dry. If I ever lose my eyes – hey, I won't have to cry no more."_

He pulled out his wand and held his other hand over the grass, creating the silhouette of it beneath. He prepared the cutting spell in his mind.

"If you go through with that, Sirius Black, I'll tie you to a chair and gag you with Prong's used Quidditch socks."

Sirius jumped violently and swung round to stare at Remus's shadowy figure beneath the tree that sheltered his motorbike. His heart hummed in his throat as he squinted, trying to make out Remus's face in the dim light.

"I wasn't – you know – slitting my wrists, Moony."

"I know perfectly well what you were doing." Remus's voice was grim.

Sirius floundered a little as he tried to figure out why Remus sounded so tense. "Well…okay. I didn't mean to…er… steal your ritual or whatever. I just thought…"

"Sirius…Padfoot." Remus moved forward and knelt beside Sirius. "You don't need to wish on blood and moonshadows. You taught me that."

Staring at his hand, which was still hovering over the ground, Sirius bowed his head. "I do, Remus." His hand clenched into a fist. "Things are falling apart. Can't you feel it?"

"This isn't the solution." Remus reached out and gripped Sirius's hand, pulling it into his lap and cradling it between both of his own. "Sirius, I was a child and my mother was young and…flighty. A little savage or… p-primal in her own way. We were both a little too in touch with _deeper_ levels of magic, and I'm afraid that somehow, we might have stumbled on something _bigger._"

"What're you going on about, Moony?" Sirius felt a sort of sick tension rise from his stomach.

"Blood and moonshadows." Remus's own smile was a little savage. His 'dark creature smile' as James had privately dubbed it. Sirius hated that expression. It made him feel awkward and distant, though he rarely saw it. Remus was too controlled for that. "A child's spell cast in blood and moonshadows."

"It wasn't real, Remus." Sirius linked his fingers through Remus's. "It was a private game. A ritual to make you feel better."

Remus shook his head. "All my moonshadow wishes came true. The ones you saw and the ones you didn't. But there were prices to pay, as with anything. I got friends, but the price was enemies. I got a new family, but paid for them with my own father. I got love, but my loved one," he reached up to brush Sirius's cheek, "has suffered for it."

"Remus, you're talking nonsense. You can't prove any of those things had anything to do with your wishes."

"You can't prove that they didn't."

"These things happen – have always been happening - long before you started wishing on moonshadows. And what's been going on with me…" Sirius slid his hand out from between Remus's and reached up to tilt Remus's face towards his own. "That had nothing to do with you, and I refuse to let you think it did."

"You can't know that."

"_I can!_" Remus flinched and Sirius lowered his voice again. "I can. Remus, my home life was fairly hellish long before you came along. Some of the things they did to me and Reg when we were children were _worse_ in a way to what they did this summer. More scarring. Okay? Now stop making me sound so cheesy and melodramatic, please. I'm beginning to make myself feel nauseous."

The leaves of the tree rustled in the silence that fell between them.

Eventually Remus ducked his head and shifted closer to Sirius's side. "Please just - don't do it. Just in case, yeah?"

"Okay." Sirius slid is wand back into his pocket. "What're you doing out here anyway? It's getting chilly and you're still not completely recovered."

"I'm perfectly recovered, thank you. And I came to see if you're okay. You've been out here ages."

_No longer than I usually am, _Sirius thought. "Do you do that often?"

Remus ducked his head, shoulders tense. "Sorry. I just worry. That thing is a menace and you could've ended up squashed under it in a ditch somewhere."

"Moonshadow is not a menace. She is a thing of class and elegance and beauty."

"So are you, and you're still a menace."

"I don't know whether to feel flattered or insulted. So what? You were planning on leaping in like a knight in shining armour and manfully heaving my bike of my squashed corpse."

"I was hoping to leap in before you became a squashed corpse."

"What, catch it in midair? Super-Moony to the rescue and all that? Would you be wearing a cape?"

Remus smiled, Sirius almost missing the quirk of his lips in the dim light. "Peter should never have lent you and Prongs those comics. And I would have if I had to."

"Even you couldn't catch a motorbike midair," Sirius scoffed

"Perhaps. I would be grateful if you didn't force me to find out, you speed-crazy mutt."

A crisp wind rose up and pulled their thin summer clothes flat against their bodies. Sirius felt Remus shiver a little against him.

"You're the idiot out here. Let's get you inside before you freeze."

"I'm not riding The Menace."

"Her name is Moonshadow. And you don't deserve to after that comment. You can run along beside us."

"Git"

"Tosser."

Remus's face creased with mischief and humour in the moonlight and Sirius grinned back. In that moment, everything felt alright again.


	72. SUMMER HOLIDAYS FIFTH YEAR

**Disclaimer: Still not mine**

**A/N: Don't get excited. This is a rather short chapter, I'm afraid. But very important. Oodles of lovely noodles to all my readers and reviewers. Thanks for sticking with me for so long!**

**M x**

* * *

**SUMMER HOLIDAYS - END OF FIFTH YEAR**

Dear Remus,

We're just writing to tell you that something important has come up. Angela is doing research for the Department of Magical Creatures and she needs to go to Italy to follow up a lead. Neil is taking extended leave from his job, and we're going to rent a house in Rome for a while. Don't worry! We're not going until you've left for school, but we were wondering if you would like to come back and be with us for the last couple of weeks of summer. We miss you terribly, and we hardly ever see you these days.

Write to us and let us know what you decide.

With all our love to our favourite son,

Neil and Angela xxx

* * *

Dear Neil and Angela,

You're moving to Italy? Why? What research is Angela doing? I thought she worked in the Wizard/Magical Creature Relations Sector.

I'm going to miss you. I know I don't often see you during term time, but it's nice to know you're close by. I'd love to come back and see you. With all the other sagas going on this holiday, we didn't get much time together. Floo me to let me know what time you want me to come. Mr. Potter says he'll tell Neil the new security code for the Potter's floo tomorrow at work. Since the Greyback scare the other night he's gone crazy about security here.

Love,

Remus x

* * *

Greetings to my most gorgeous Moony,

How are things going back at home? Found anything else out about Angela's 'research'? I hope you're okay and not worrying yourself sick over things. Remember the Marauder code: always innocent until proven guilty. It might be nothing. It really might! Don't make that face. I know you are – that one where you scowl and bite you lip and scratch at your cheek with your nails.

And eat. I know you don't eat properly when you're stressed out, and if you're any skinnier you'll skewer me with your elbows.

Here's an anecdote to cheer you up:

I was teaching James to ride Moonshadow (I know. I'm magnanimous and benevolent. And possibly insane for letting him anywhere near my baby), and we were practicing down in that field down by the west wing of the house. You know the one – where Mrs. Potter let crazy old Mrs. Tinbuckle keep her pigs while her fence was being fixed. And they were there for weeks and the rain churned up all the mud and pig crap into a big fragrant porridge (I'll give you a moment to fix that scene into your mind).

Anyway, Prongs was being snotty and arrogant and all 'I _know_ what I doing, Padfoot, stop _lecturing _me! I can ride on my own!'. So I was like, 'Fine, go ahead'. Needless to say, he screwed up (as I knew he would) and dumped the clutch while he was starting up and the bike bucked him head-over-heels over the handlebars . Don't worry. He's not hurt. He had a very SOFT and SQUELCHY landing. Wormtail and I were laughing our arses off (our sensible little rat says the day he gets on the bike is the day you get an Outstanding for NEWT Potions – ie. NEVER), and Prongs was lurching about like The Dreaded Dripping Dung Beast of Dungshire going 'Argh! Argh! Get it off me!' and Mrs. Potter was shrieking 'James Harold Potter, don't you DARE come anywhere NEAR the house until you are CLEAN and all your clothes are BURNED.' Classic.

Hope you are feeling more cheerful now. I miss you so much, Moony. I keep finding myself doing disapproving sniffs at myself because without you here, someone has to (Mrs. Potter's are too motherly, and don't have that exasperated-prefect edge like yours do). I'm planning a lovely snog-fest for when we meet again. And once it's night and we have silencing charms on the bed curtains…well, I'll leave that up to your extraordinary imagination. Remember to take notes on your favourite bits to relay to me.

All my love and a bushel full of Honeyduke's finest,

Padfoot

* * *

Hey Moony,

PLEASE come back. The Pratish-Ps are a complete nightmare without you here to keep them on a leash. Do you know where I am right now? No? Come on – have a guess. You'll never guess. I'll tell you. I am in a barrel. A big wooden barrel. And I am sharing this barrel with apples. Wrinkly apples that the Potters put in here from their trees to store over winter. They dry up and last all season, apparently. Unless they get damp. Then they rot and turn squishy and the squishiness spreads to all the surrounding apples if you don't remove the dodgy one quickly. Do you know how I know that? Because my left foot is sunk up to the ankle in ex-wrinkly and currently-squishy apples.

"Why are you in a barrel, Wormtail?" I hear you ask.

I'll tell you: because I climbed in here to escape the Pratish-Ps. Prongs has bet Padfoot TWENTY GALLEONS that he cannot dress me up like a girl believably enough that when they take me round town no one will notice. He gets another TEN GALLEONS if someone addresses me as 'her' or 'she' in a non-sarcastic manner. That's THIRTY GALLEONS!!! I don't look like a girl, do I, Moony?

And of course I never got a say ! Which is why I am now ankle-deep in rotting apple goo in a barrel writing to you on the back of an apple-inventory list with a million galleon gold-plated fountain pen I found down the back of the sofa in the living room before I escaped. Where do these people get all their money??? My family could live for a year on what this pen cost.

Other things that the Pratish-Ps have got up to in your absence:

Tranfiguring all the bubbles in my bath into leeches

Charming the fur of every cat in Loganbury into mini lions (complete with manes), and making it so that instead of saying 'meow', what comes out of their mouths are words so vile I don't even know what some of them mean. Remember – most of the cats belong to old muggle ladies!

Transfiguring the contents of Mrs. Potter's apple pies (which she was preparing for a teaparty for her friends) into blackbirds. Yes. You heard me right. Blackbirds. Live blackbirds that flew out when she cut the pie open. I didn't even know pureblood kids learnt that nursery rhyme. The birds crapped all over the heads of the guests.

Anyway, I wish you were still here. Padfoot in particular is completely unbearable in your absence. I reckon Prongs only goes along with it to cheer him up. Luckily he's managed to tone down some of Sirius's worst ideas. In between the childish pranks he's showing some disturbing signs of maturity. Evans wouldn't believe it.

I might try to sneak out and find an owl to post this now. If I end up tottering around high heels with waxed legs and lip gloss, I'm laying all the blame at your feet. He's your boy. You're completely responsible for him.

From a very desperate and currently slightly dodgy-smelling,

Wormtail

PS: Do you reckon when they turn seventeen they'll stop finding dungbombs so funny? I'm tired of being stunk out my room.

* * *

Dear Moony,

Your mutt is out of control. And he's dragging me along in his slipstream. You know how he does that. Still, it's been quite fun. Like a last blast of immaturity until we're into our sixth year. I am planning on being very mature and hardworking in the coming year. Don't make that face. I know you are. The one with the dubious eyebrow and the pursed lips.

On a more serious note – how's things going at the Anders? Any news on their possible funding of you-know-what? I hope things are okay and you aren't as crazy as Padfoot at the moment.

I just realized that it's going to be full moon the week we're back at school. Gutted, mate. I'm really sorry.

Only a week to go before term starts. I'm looking forward to it, to be honest.

Prongs

PS: We can't break our tradition of a big Christmas prank. I was watching this Muggle movie about pirates the other day and have come up with an idea that's so amazingly brilliant and clever that you could dye its hair red and call it Lily Evans.

* * *

My dearest Pads,

If I hear that poor Pete has been forced into cross-dressing of any sort, I'm going to withhold snogs and …other interesting activities for a month. I'm not kidding. Did you know the poor bloke was in an apple barrel? That's not on, Padfoot. Really. I wish you wouldn't pick on him like that. He's a Maruader. You'd never do anything like that to me. Or Prongs.

I haven't found out anything else about Angela and Neil's plans to move to Rome. They're being really close-mouthed about it. I wish I could be angry with them, but they're being so nice, and they're my _parents_. I mean, Angela makes my favourite foods all the time and yesterday we went up into the attic to wage war on items of her old wardrobe she had stored up there. Turns out her clothes used to be even more sapient when she was younger. She toned it down when she married Neil. We had the most brilliant time running round after escaping socks and evading the embraces of this insane fur coat. Her formal robes formed an army and marched out against her blouses. Believe me when I say you've never seen anything like it.

And Neil pulled all sorts of strings to get me a copy of _Hairy Snout, Human Heart_, even though it's technically banned from all normal bookshops because it shows werewolves in a positive light. He knew I wanted to read it. And he makes jokes and tried to gull me into playing chess with him again, even though he knows he always loses.

They're so happy I'm here, and I can't bear to think anything bad about them . But what else could it be?

I can't wait to be back at school with my fellow Marauders. Even though that means I'm also wishing the next moon closer.

I miss you, Pads.

Love,

Your Moony

* * *

Dear Prongs and Wormtail,

I leave it up to you to keep a leash on the mutt in my absence. I'm busy packing at the moment, so I'm afraid I can't write a lot, but I have included some cherry scones that Angela made for you guys to share. They're amazingly more-ish. You're lucky I managed to save this many.

I've also included _Hairy Snout, Human Heart_ for Padfoot if you could pass it on. He claims he wants to read it, though I will believe that when I see it.

From your lonely friend,

Moony


	73. The Prodigal Cub

**Disclaimer: The Wizarding world and its inhabitants belong to JK Rowling**

**Warnings: Violence and some (non graphic, though slightly disturbing) sexual content**

**A/N: Another chapter already? I can hear all the thumps from around the world as you all faint in shock. I'd also like to ask any of you who have a moment to take a look at all the fanart that people have produced for this fic. More is added all the time, and there are some really good artists out there. Links are on my profile.**

**Moonsign x **

**REMUS:**

Remus's first week of sixth year was a blur of pain, potions, hospital wing sheets and dimly remembered moonlit romps through the forbidden forest. According to his friends (who relayed the story with a mixture of sympathy and badly repressed snickers), his childish post-moon self was so excited to have his pack back that he puked up chocolate all down Sirius's front. Remus once again vowed that the first thing he would do when he graduated was to figure out a way of separating himself and the wolf completely so he wouldn't have to live with the humiliation of child-like Moony any longer than he had to.

The new school year was different to any of the others the Marauders had experienced in their time at Hogwarts. The news of increasing attacks by Voldemort and his followers that had littered the papers all summer had left a dark aura over the returning students that refused to dissipate. To Remus's amazement, it even affected Sirius and James (who seemed oddly determined to keep to his vow of maturity in the new school year and was actually seen to _help_ a couple of lost first years rather than lead them up trick staircases or plant dung bombs in their schoolbags as he might once have done. Lily's expression in disbelief when she observed this uncharacteristic good deed would have delighted James if he'd seen it.).

This wasn't to say the two boys had become angels over the summer, as a common-room full of feather-covered, beak-bearing Slytherins would testify (or at least would have liked to have testified had they not found themselves incapable of saying anything other than 'cluck' for two days), but their pranks seemed to have lost some of their cruelty, and their world view now seemed to encompass more than their old Maraudering adventures.

"It just doesn't seem right somehow," Sirius explained one evening in mid-October, as he stood on a wobbly chair in their dorm and tossed a variety of valuable personal items on top of the massive oak wardrobe. "Like we don't care about all the awful things that are happening out there – people fighting and dying and being cursed."

Remus, who was levitating his trunk up to balance on the wooden frame of the canopy of his bed, nodded in agreement. He knew they were all thinking about Frank Longbottom, whose father's apothecary had been broken into by Death Eaters over the summer. He and his assistant had fought back against the wizards who were trying to steal valuable and rare ingredients, and the assistant had ended up being hit by Avada Kedavra, while Frank's father had lost an arm and both legs to severing hexes.

"We shouldn't get too serious, though," Remus said, handing a pile of books to James who was packing them on a shelf high on the wall. "I know that in the times I felt most depressed and hopeless I _needed_ you guys to do something stupid and funny to help me remember that not everything is awful."

Sirius laughed and gestured round their dorm dramatically, wobbling dangerously on his chair. "No fear of that, Moony darling. If this is us being serious, McGonagall would probably die if she saw us upbeat and lighthearted."

Remus couldn't deny this. Plans for _Operation Yo Ho Ho and a bottle of Firewhisky_ were well underway, and this year's Christmas prank was looking to be one of their most elaborate ever. The four of them were currently removing anything that was valuable or prone to water damage out of the way so they could test how effective their wall-to-wall waterproofing charm was.

"We're going to be in so much trouble this year," Peter said gloomily, passing up his and James's extensive collection of _Playwizard_ magazines to Sirius to store on the wardrobe. "Especially from Professor McGonagall. We'll be in detention until we graduate."

"Oh, don't be a spoilsport, Wormtail," said James. He tossed a rolled-up sock at the chubby boy's head. "Last year's prank was awesome. We can't do an inferior one this year."

"You guys really find this sexy?" Sirius asked squinting at the centerfold of one of the magazine's and turning it sideways as though August's model, Sexy-Lexi might look more attractive from a different angle. "She's all…squishy and flobbly."

"You're the one with all the naked girls on your bedroom walls," James said defensively. "You tell me."

"_Partly _naked girls on my _ex_-bedroom walls," said Sirius. "And you know perfectly well I only put those up because I was drunk and wanted to annoy my gorgon of a mother."

"Like you're one to talk, anyway," Peter put in. "Your boyfriend is essentially a matchstick man. Sorry Moony."

Remus sighed, wishing, not for the first time, that someone would teach Peter to think before he spoke. "I can't help being skinny. My body burns up more fat than yours. Something to do with my enhanced senses taking more energy."

Peter yelped and clutched his behind when Sirius sent a stinging hex his way. "Don't listen to Wormtail. He has no right to talk. He looks like someone poured him into his clothes and forgot to say 'when'*. I think you're gorgeous, Moony. Don't you reckon, Prongs?"

James looked alarmed. "Why're you asking me?"

"You said he looked hot that one time when we're going clubbing at Wormy's house."

"Don't call me Wormy," Peter mumbled without vigour.

"A bit hot, maybe," James said, looking rather red. "From a very straight point of view. I'm completely into Evans."

Remus smiled at the unusual compliment. He never saw himself as anything other than scarred and ugly and it was gratifying that his friends could look past that.

"'Course you are." Sirius drawled in answer to James.

"I _am_."

Sirius put up his hands in surrender. "I know. Merlin. If you were any more into her you would be put into Azkaban for obsessive stalking."

"Lads, please." Remus rubbed a hand over his face. "Can we not do this? And could you make sure that not a single one of my books are anywhere near where the water is going please?"

"You wouldn't dump me for Prongs if he turned gay would you?" Sirius appealed, leaping down off the chair and throwing himself at Remus, licking a long stripe up his cheek.

Remus made a face, shoved him off and wiped the saliva off his face. "Yuck. Right now I'm thinking I might."

"Why?" Sirius whined.

"Because you're inbred and off-putting."

"So is Prongs."

"Good point."

"Right," James said loudly, holding up his wand. "Let's do this thing. Shut the door, _Wormy._"

Peter sighed and went to obey. He had not managed to get a grip on the waterproofing charm, so his only job was to stand out the way while the other three cast it along all the walls and the floor.

Remus began by his bed, determined that as much of his personal space and belongings would remain as dry as possible. He ran his wand along the wall, along the skirting board and over the floor, muttering the complicated charm under his breath.

It took a long time and by the end of it, all three of the boys were feeling a little light-headed from the use of so much magic in a short space of time. James pulled a piece of parchment and a quill out of his pocket.

"Point number one," he said, scribbling as he spoke. "Find some way to magnify the effects of the charm or there's no way the three of us could do the whole Great Hall and the main corridors outside it."

"Write down that we need to find a way to do it more quickly as well," Sirius said, shaking his head and blinking rapidly. "That took us nearly forty-five minutes and that was just for our dorm."

"Shall we test it then?" Remus said, climbing up onto his bed and holding up his wand again.

The others stood on their beds, too and held out their wands.

"Ready, lads?" James said. "Now!"

"_Augumenta!_" Their four voices chanted, and at once streams of water poured from the ends of their wands.

It took a very long time to fill the whole room to even the foot and a half of water they planned for the test.

"Definitely have to think of a way to get water _gushing_ in," Sirius said. "And not from our wands, either. Otherwise the teachers are going to have way too much time to stop us."

"Maybe we can find some way to transfer all the water in the lake into the castle," Peter suggested.

"Well, having the giant squid and all those angry merpeople joining in would certainly add a touch of excitement to all the proceedings," Sirius conceded.

"As the token prefect of the Marauders," Remus said, "I must protest at that idea. I suggest water and _only_ water should be used."

"No sharks?" James asked, looking crestfallen.

"Or electric eels?" said Peter.

"No," Remus said firmly. "Now can anyone see if the water is leaking out anywhere?"

"Not that I can see," Sirius said. "Stop bouncing on your bed, Pete. Every time you make the water slosh it wets my mattress from underneath."

"Hang on a moment," Remus said, holding up his hand. "Does anyone else hear that?"

The other three were silent for a few seconds, straining their less-enhanced hearing.

"Er…sounds like screaming," James said.

"Coming from the Common Room, do you reckon?" Sirius asked. "Which bit of the room is over the Common Room?"

"That whole third of the room by the window and the wardrobe," said Peter.

There was a short silence, then, "Did anyone cast the waterproofing charm under the wardrobe?" James looked at Sirius and Remus hopefully. "Anyone?"

"Ah." Remus's sensitive ears picked up the sound of footsteps running up the stone stairs towards their dorm. "Did you lock the door, Pete? I fear they might try to burst in."

"I did lock it. Though I reckon we should start getting rid of this water."

Quick, quick," James yanked out his wand again. "We've got to get rid of all this. _ Evanesco!_"

"_Evanesco! Evanesco!_" Remus, along with the others, chanted the spell over and over again, vanishing the water at a frustratingly slow pace.

People started hammering on their door. "_What are you lot up to now!_" Michael Douglas's voice yelled above the thumps. _"There's water pouring through the ceiling of the Common Room!_"

"We've got it under control!" Sirius yelled back.

"_Not from where we're standing!_" Alice Richards retorted. "_Lily and Frank have gone to get Professor McGonagall, so you'd better have a good explanation!_"

Remus glanced round at his friends who were all still frantically vanishing the water. "Broken plumbing?" he suggested, just as the sound of Professor McGonagall's voice rose furiously from the Common Room.

"It's worth a try," Sirius said. He grinned across at Remus, his expression exhilaratingly wild and gleeful. "Did I mention you look awfully sexy when you're all hot and bothered like this?"

* * *

It was not until almost a month later that their punishment had lifted enough for them to be allowed out for a Hogsmeade visit again. It was almost Halloween and orange and black decorations adorned the windows of all the shops, pubs and cafes of Hogsmeade. The air was crisp and cold, and white condensation billowed like smoke from their mouths as they wandered through the village centre.

"It's so nice to be in Hogsmeade again," Sirius said, spinning in a circle in the middle of the main road and narrowly missing being knocked over by a wizard pulling up on his broomstick outside The Hogshead.

"You were in Hogsmeade last week," James pointed out. "We sneaked in to get Moony chocolate after the moon."

"I meant _officially_ in Hogsmeade. It's different when you can wander round wherever you like without anyone demanding to know whether any of the teachers know you're here and telling you they're going to report you. Shall we go and get something to eat?"

"I want to go to the bookshop first," Remus said. "To see if there are any books in there that might help us alter the waterproof spells a bit more effectively. Now we've found that time-activated lake-filling charm for the water, we only need to get this bit right and we're really on our way to being able to do this prank for real."

"Aw." Sirius moaned. "Do we have to? You know I'm allergic to bookshops."

Remus smiled at him fondly. "Why don't you three go to Zonko's?" he suggested. "Then we can meet up for lunch at The Three Broomsticks at about…" he glanced at his watch, "…half one?"

It was, Remus thought, extraordinary how relieved two such intelligent people could look about being let off a visit to a book shop. And Peter actually did a little jig.

"It's not so much the bookshop itself, you see," Sirius said, slinging an arm around Remus and pulling him into a rough one-armed hug that would not look suspicious to anyone watching. "It's more the fact that I have to watch you sighing and drooling for hours over all those books and forgetting all about me. It makes me horribly jealous."

"It does," James agreed. "He's gets so green he could hide in a lettuce patch."

"Go on with you!" Remus said, laughing and shoving Sirius away. "Have fun at Zonko's and don't buy anything you know I won't approve of."

Their faces fell in mock horror.

"But that's everything!" Peter protested.

"Go on – leave me in peace. I'll see you later."

He watched them hurry away before turning to walk the other way. The bookshop he was going to – The Old Quill - was a shabby little place down one of the side streets that sold secondhand books. Not only were they cheaper, but Remus had found a number of hidden gems there in his time at Hogwarts. The old witch, Betty, who ran it was fairly dotty, but still managed to remember Remus and kept behind any books she thought would be of interest to him and his friends in exchange for tales of their exploits at Hogwarts.

She wasn't at the counter when he entered, and Remus guessed she was probably having a cup of tea in the little apartment she lived in that backed onto the shop. He wandered out among the cluttered shelves, browsing through the teetering piles of books that covered every surface and most of the floor.

He'd been there about forty minutes, absorbed in a book that promised to teach him how to grow his own garden in his kitchen sink, when he heard the bell over the door ring and looked up to see Lily's distinctive red hair moving through the shelves.

"Remus!" She said as she spotted him. "Good to see you away from your group of miscreants. Is Betty not around?"

"I haven't seen her. I guess she's in her apartment. We can ring for her when we're ready."

Lily tilted her head back and flung her arms out, turning in a circle in a way that was eerily reminiscent of Sirius's gesture in the road earlier. "Don't you love this place? It's like going back in time. It's so…quaint. And useful . D'you know, the last time I was here I found a whole book on Ketiapods for that Herbology project we had? I hardly had to do any other research at all."

Remus smiled at her enthusiasm. "Yeah. That's why I like it as well. Useful for those unusual spells you sometimes find yourself needing."

She raised an elegant auburn eyebrow. "Unusual spells? This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain Common Room flooding incident, would it?"

"Of course not!" Remus assumed a look of injured innocence. "That was broken plumbing."

"Oh yes. Of course it was. On a completely unrelated note, last time I was here I noticed a rather dusty old tome of household spells propping up the leg of that wobbly stool by the window. It contains a lot of useful information on things like dusting spells, flower arranging charms, and one useful little chapter on bathroom maintenance." She gave him a sideways look. "You know – things like how to drain water after a plumbing leak and how to make a room watertight."

Remus felt a slow grin spread across his face. "Really? You know, I always was fascinated by the fine art of flower arranging."

"Yes. I sensed that in you. That's why I suggested it."

"You are a useful woman to know. Can I invite you to join my companions and me for lunch?"

"If your companions include those idiots Potter, Black and Pettigrew, then I'm afraid I've just remembered I have a hair appointment at Madame Tinkerton's at…what time was it?"

"Half one."

"…Half past one. What a sad coincidence."

"Indeed." Remus wandered over to the window and bent to retrieve the massive book on archaic household charms from where it was acting as a prop for the stool. He replaced it with a copy of _1001 Ways to Defeat Old Age – Including Spells for Removing Nose Hair, Disguising Bald Patches and Hiding __Excess Fat._

"So what are you looking for, Lily?" he asked her, as he paged through the book. "I've had a look round today so I've got a good idea of the new things Betty's got in."

"Nothing in particular. I was just looking around. Have you found anything in there that might be of use for your….flower arranging?"

"Yeah." Remus ran his hand down the instructions for one of the spells. "Yeah, this is brilliant. Thanks!"

"I'm guessing you'll be presenting the bouquet to its intended recipients at Christmas? It's not going to, you know, explode or anything is it? You're keeping a lid on ….your…inventive enthusiasm, right?"

Remus winked at her. "Getting cold feet about aiding and abetting the Marauders and their schemes in the field of floristry?"

"Nothing of the sort," Lily huffed, her lips twitching in amusement.

"Then why don't you – "

"Well, look what we have here, gentlemen." The voice that interrupted Remus was very low and gravelly, leaving the impression that the kind of 'gentlemen' the owner was addressing were the kind that, had they been Muggles, would have belonged to a select organization such as the Mafia.

Remus's sensitive sense of smell also informed him of exactly who it was that was standing behind him and he felt his heart lurch in very unGryffindor-like terror, even as he cursed himself for being so involved in the book and his conversation that he hadn't noticed anyone coming in. Lily took one look at his face and went deathly pale.

"Well? Aren't you going to look at me, cub?"

Slowly, slowly, feeling as though he might collapse in fear at any minute, Remus turned around to face the massive, grizzled and scarred man. It was the first time he had seen Greyback in human form and he was hard-pressed to say if he looked more violent or vicious in this form or in his wolf one. The other werewolf reeked of sweat, old blood and Dark magic. His hair was wild and shaggy brown-grey. His nails and teeth were yellowed like old ivory and much larger than they had any right to be in a human body.

"We've been waiting for you to make an appearance in Hogsmeade since summer," Greyback practically purred. In a move too fast for Remus to register, Greyback grabbed the front of his shirt and pressed him hard against the wall, pinning his arms to prevent him from reaching his wand. Remus felt sick and light-headed both from the fact that the pressure of Greyback's massive weight and werewolf strength meant he was cutting off most of Remus's breathing, and from the fact that he could _feel_ that Greyback was enjoying this encounter in a way that was perverted and terrifyingly sexual.

"Let him go!" Lily's wand appeared pressed to Greyback's temple, though this close, Remus could see the tip of it shaking violently.

"Lily…run…" he managed to wheeze.

She ignored him. "Let him _go_, I said!"

Greyback smiled. His breath was the most disgusting thing Remus had ever smelled. "Gentlemen?"

Shadows detached themselves from among the shelves. Shadows that resolved themselves into two black-hooded, white masked figures.

"Drop the wand, little girl," said one of them in a drawling, aristocratic voice.

"I'll kill him!" Lily shrieked. "I swear!"

There was a flash of yellow light, and Lily screamed. Her wand clattered to the floor and she clutched at her bleeding arm as the wizard who had cast the spell reached out and dragged her against him, holding his own wand to her head.

"Now," Greyback murmured, giving a slight thrust with his hips that made Remus want to vomit, "we can do this the hard way or," he grinned, "the even harder way."

"Let…her…go," Remus gasped.

"Oh, we will. A little worse for wear, of course, but we _will_ let her go. As long as you promise to do your duty to our species and join the Dark Lord. Do you know the _power_ our side would have if we had, not just a werewolf, but a _Hogwarts_ educated werewolf on our side? You could persuade all the others to join our cause with your pretty words and 'human' tricks. And besides," he thrust again. "I misssssed you. You were the tastiest cub I ever created. Such," thrust, "sweet," thrust, "blood."

Remus retched, unable to help himself. Lily was sobbing quietly.

"Come on," Greyback growled against Remus's neck. "We can help you. We have plans to get hold of a brand new potion that will let you to keep your mind after you transform. That's what you've always wanted isn't it? _Isn't_ it? You always sought to deny the marvelous creature I made you into. Poor boy. Poor little cub." Thrust, thrust.

"Liar!" Remus spat at his face and Greyback laughed.

"I'm not. You know I'm not. We're werewolves and you can smell my emotions on me. Do you smell lies?"

Remus smelled violence, cruelty, hatred, sadistic lust, but no lies. He wished more than anything that he could.

"I…hate…you!" he gasped.

"Is that a yes?" Greyback enquired in a mockingly polite voice. He reached down to grip Remus's behind with one massive hand, his other effortlessly keeping the smaller werewolf's arms pinned.

Then, before Remus could register what was happening, there were three flashes of red light and Greyback collapsed, unconscious, to the floor, dragging Remus with him. Remus gave a breathless whine as the weight of the other werewolfs's massive torso crushed his own. There were a few seconds of shocked silence, then, with another flash of red light, one of the masked wizards also collapsed.

The one holding Lily pressed his wand harder against her head. His stance had grown wary and tense. "I'll kill her," he warned. "I already killed the dotty old witch that owned this place, and I'll kill her too. I swear."

"If you release her, we'll let you go," said James's voice from by the window.

Remus wheezed, his vision darkening, gasping for breath.

"Swear it on your magic," the wizard said.

There was a long pause, then James removed the invisibility cloak and said, "If you release her and promise to leave without hurting anyone, we'll let you go. I swear it on my magic." A small thread of purple light flickered from his wand and wound round his wand hand.

"Very well. Lower your wands. All of you."

Remus half-raised his throbbing head to see Sirius and Peter emerging from the shelves, their wands lowered.

"You do anything to break the deal and we'll curse you," Sirius said. "I swear it, Rodolphus. You know I'm capable of it."

"Sirius Black," the man hissed.

"I know who you are as well, Lestrange. I'd recognise your oily, dulcet tones anywhere. I'll get you thrown into Azkaban for this."

The figure hacked out the approximation of a laugh. "You can _try_, you blood-traitor brat."

"Get out!" Sirius snapped, his wand shaking in rage.

In a swift move, the Death Eater dropped Lily, grabbed the arms of Greyback and his other companion, and Apparated the three of them from the shop.

Remus blinked twice, then, as the blood rushed back to his head now that Greyback's weight was removed, he blacked out.

* * *

*PG Wodehouse is responsible for this marvelous description, not me, sadly.


	74. Experimenting and Tapir Mistakes

**Disclaimer: Not mine, but JKR's. This should come as no surprise any more**

**Warnings: A bit of slashy action in this chapter. Nothing too graphic as this site doesn't allow it. Enjoy!**

* * *

**SIRIUS:**

"I need to pee," Sirius announced, without taking his eyes off Remus's still figure on the hospital bed.

Madame Pomfrey was unfazed. "Well, there is a bedpan right here. If Mr. Potter wouldn't mind helping you with your trousers –"

"I'm serious!"

Everyone was serious. Too serious even to make the usual joke that accompanied the phrase when Sirius used it.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Black," said Professor McGonagall, from where she had been talking quietly to Lily in the other bed. "But until we can trust that you won't go haring off on some suicidal revenge mission, we're keeping you tied to that chair."

"_Someone_ has to do something."

"The Aurors –"

"The bloody Aurors are just hanging round wringing their hands and taking statements. It's all they do – take stupid, _pointless_ statements over and over again until they've started interviewing people who weren't even _there_ and then they wring their hands again and tell you; 'Oh, I'm sure it can't have been _that_ bad, eh, Mr. Black. I'm sure it wasn't the _real_ Greyback. I'm sure you're just exaggerating in your mischievous, boyish way, eh? How about you tell us what _really_ happened, lad?' And then they start wringing their hands again until I just want to hex their balls into Christmas tree baubles."

"Just because you want to do something, doesn't mean you should," Professor McGonagall said sternly. "It took Professor Flitwick half an hour to reverse the charm on Auror Beandorp's…private area."

"But the bastards aren't _doing _anything!"

"Language, Mr. Black!"

"What are you going to do? Torture my bo-best friend, inflict incompetent Ministry workers on me and then tie me to a chair for three hours? Oh wait..."

"_Silencio!_"

"Thank you, Minerva," Madame Pomfrey said gratefully.

"He does have a point, though," James said. He was seated exactly halfway between Lily and Remus. "Surely the dead woman in the back of her shop counts for something. They can't just ignore this."

"They're _not_ ignoring it, Mr. Potter. They're doing their best. But as they explained, the Aurors are stretched thin. There were two Death Eater attacks on Muggleborn families in Hull and Dorset this weekend alone. Things are getting out of hand and a small attack on a very old woman and a couple of students who escaped with minimal injuries are really not at the top of their list."

_Minimal injuries?_ Sirius burned with anger. He'd seen Remus's expression when he'd woken briefly before Madame Pomfrey had given him a sleeping drought. The level of psychological disturbance there could not be constituted as _minimal. _

There was a gentle touch on his arm and Sirius turned his head to scowl at Madame Pomfrey. She bent to his level and murmured; "Sometimes what our injured ones need is our support and care, not our manic fight for revenge against an enemy we cannot hope to beat."

Sirius had a sudden flashback to Remus – Remus who could crush the bones in someone's arm with one hand if he chose, or run as fast as sprinting wolf, or smell a person from twenty metres away – pinned helplessly against the wall by Greyback as the other werewolf thrust against him. With a sinking feeling, Sirius just _knew_ he could not hope to beat Remus's sire. In fact right now, he could not think why he had ever even entertained the thought of going after him at all when he knew Remus would be left here needing him

"It's one of the perils of being a certain kind of Gryffindor, Mr. Black."

Sirius jumped and glanced up to see Professor McGonagall standing beside him. _What? _He mouthed.

"Running off in search of revenge for our loved ones without thinking about the consequences for those we leave behind. I'm afraid when you're a certain kind of Gryffindor – like you are and I used to be – you have to _train_ yourself to step back from the situation and think it through before rushing in. It's hard and it takes years, but it can be done. Until then, you will have to rely on your friends to tie you up until you can think sensibly. Otherwise it can lead to some very dire consequences."

Sirius felt his mouth tighten, but he nodded his head.

"So do you swear you won't run off after any Death Eaters, or leave these school grounds for any reason if we release you?"

He turned his gaze back to Remus, pale and still on the bed. He nodded again.

"Very well." She released him.

* * *

"You can stop hovering, Padfoot, I'm fine. Okay?"

Remus was not fine. Even in the dim light of the common room fire, with his face hidden by in the shadows of his book Sirius could see that.

"It's three in the morning." Sirius crouched in front of Remus's armchair and rested his chin on the other boy's knee. "Come to bed."

It had been seven days since the incident with Greyback and annoyingly, Remus _had_ seemed fine. At least he had during the day. He went to classes, did his homework, smiled his usual reluctant smile at stupid jokes, and helped plan Operation Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of Firewhiskey with only a minimal amount of prefect-erly resistance.

But at night things had changed. Sirius had become used to being prodded awake with sharp elbows, knees and chin as Remus sneaked into his bed when the moon tugged a little too hard at his aching bones. On other nights, he was used to feeling no compunction about sneaking back into Remus's bed and gathering himself an armful of sleepy werewolf, who nuzzled into his chest, humming contentedly and then flatly denying any such unmanly actions the next day.

But since Greyback there had been no slender shadow appearing silently through the gap in his curtains and no mornings of warm fuzzy arousal and thrusting sleepily against one another until they both came sweaty and sticky, but too wobble-boned and inner-glowing to move. He hadn't dared to approach Remus's bed either, because the worse thing he could ever imagine was to see that same revulsion and fear in Remus's eyes at his touch that he had seen with Greyback's.

Now, a week after the attack, when they were alone in the Common Room late at night and the bright glow of the fire highlighted the haunted shadows around Remus's eyes and mouth, Sirius was determined to do something to get things back to the way they were.

"I've got a few more pages," Remus said, in answer. "You go on up. I'll be there when I'm done."

"I'll wait." Sirius dug his chin more firmly into Remus's knee and assumed his most stubborn expression.

Remus looked at him fondly over the top of his book and patted his head in a manner that was rather insultingly reminiscent of the way one would pat the head of a good dog. Then he went back to reading.

"You aren't going to protest?" Sirius persisted, bored after only a couple of minutes of silence.

Remus sighed without looking up. "About what? You haven't been putting grindylows in the prefect's bath again have you?"

"No! I mean, yes about the grindylows – you can't deny all that screaming and splashing and gurgling is music to Marauderish ears – but what I actually meant was; aren't you going to protest about me asking you to come up to bed with me?"

Remus slipped his index finger between the pages of his book to act as a marker and closed it to look down at Sirius. "Did we break up without me noticing?"

"Of course not. But you can't deny things have been a bit different since…you know."

"I know." The other boy looked down at his book, but didn't open it again. "I just needed some time."

"It's okay," Sirius assured him. "I'm not trying to rush you. I'm just trying to figure out where things stand right now."

"Exactly where they always stood, Padfoot. I swear I'm not trying to change things between us. I'd not let him do that."

"Who?"

"Greyback. I'm not going to let him take anything else from me." Remus's voice didn't change, but his hand on the cover of his book tightened so hard Sirius was sure his trapped finger must be in pain.

"It's okay to be –"

"No!" Sirius jumped and Remus's face softened. "No," he said more quietly. "I won't let him take this. I won't. He took my Mum and my childhood and my humanity. He can't have this."

"He didn't take your humanity, Moony," Sirius said fiercely. "You're still human."

"I'm not. I may still be a person, but much as you want to claim differently, I'm _not_ human."

"Only a night a month…"

"Always, Pads." Remus placed his book on the arm of the chair and reached forward to cup Sirius's head, where it rested on his lap, in his slender hands. "I could crush your skull into little pieces right now if I wanted to."

Sirius remained still, though he was sure Remus could feel his hammering pulse.

"If you tried to run, I could catch you in a heartbeat. If you managed to escape, I could sniff you out wherever you were hiding."

Sirius couldn't decide whether he was more fearful or aroused by Remus's tone.

"If I kept you prisoner until a full moon, with a single bite I could inflict a curse on you that you would have to live with for the rest of your life. I am cultivating the image of a kindly, unassuming little man who will end up greying and professory and wearing elbow patches because that's as far from the wolf as I can picture it possible to be, but that's not who I'll ever really be. Not completely, anyway. This is the truth, Sirius. I have to live with it, and if you want to be with me, you will have to as well."

Aroused, Sirius decided. Definitely more aroused. Who knew the image of a werewolf in elbow patches could have that effect on him? These odd kinks had to be a result of inbreeding and mutating Black genes.

"I'll definitely live with it, Moony."

Remus nostril's flared a little as his sensitive sense of smell kicked in and a small crinkle of amusement appeared at the corner of eyes. "Are you horny?"

"I can't help it," Sirius said sulkily. "It's been days and you're talking all sexy."

"I _thought_ I was frightening some sense into you."

"Sense, Moony? _Sense_?"

"Okay, okay, I see your point."

He stroked his fingers through Sirius's hair and Sirius leaned into the sensuous touch.

"Seriously, though," Remus persisted, "all that lecturing just turned you on?"

"I'm seventeen, babe. _Dumbledore_ turns me on."

"Well, the man is sex on legs," Remus said gravely.

"Sex in robes," Sirius corrected. "Purple and orange robes with a grey beard and half-moon glasses. How can you look at that and _not _say, 'Phwoar!'"

There was a brief silence as they contemplated the image.

Remus sniffed again. "Good _Godric_, Sirius, are you seriously still aroused?"

"It's been a week, Moony. A _week_!"

"We're definitely going to have to rectify this. I can't have you running off with Dumbledore."

"Good!" Sirius jumped to his feet and held out his hand to pull Remus out of his chair. "Now? Come on. Bed, Moony. Leave the book, for Merlin's sake. How can you think of a book at a time like this?"

With much pushing, shoving, hustling and shushing, they made their way up into the dormitory and behind Remus's bed curtains without waking James and Peter. Sirius set a silencing charm and turned to look at Remus who was perched on his bed looking more unsure than his brave words had indicated.

"We don't have to, Moony. We could just – you know – sleep. In the same bed. To ease you back into it."

Remus squared his shoulders and pushed himself back on the bed, spreading his arms. "I don't know what you're talking about. Ravish me, you beast!"

Sirius snickered. "I can't believe you just said that. You're not reading Evans's Muggle romances again are you? You remember what happened last time."

"I didn't know Prongs would take me seriously when I suggested the suit of armour and the horse. And I thought Lily was remarkably restrained in her reaction. I think he's growing on her."

"Like a puff-haired fungus. Now much as I'm sure this is a perfectly normal pre-coital conversation, can we get on with the ravishing now?"

"I'm the one waiting."

Sirius slipped his outer robe and tie off, then, as sexily as he could, crawled onto the bed and slunk up Remus's body until he was crouched over him on all fours. He was gratified to see the other boy's face flush with arousal.

"Ready?" Sirius asked breathlessly.

"Mmm. Kiss me first."

Sirius pressed his mouth to the corner of Remus's, then dipped his head to kiss his neck, before moving back up to kiss him more fully on the lips. Remus responded tentatively at first, then with growing enthusiasm, until they were both open-mouthed and hungry and panting.

Carefully, Sirius began lowering his body down atop of Remus's, preparing to thrust with him to a sticky climax as they usually did. As soon as his body came into contact with the werewolf's, though, Remus froze and jerked his head to the side.

Sirius stopped, then lifted himself away again, wary of the nervous-animal look in Remus's eyes. "Okay, Moony?"

"Sorry," Remus whispered. "I'm just trying not to remember."

"We'll stop."

"No. We can't stop. We have to make this special again. He can't have this."

"I don't want to do this if you're not happy. We can do something else. Try something else. It's about time we did anyway."

"Take your clothes off."

"_What_?" Sirius wasn't proud of the pitch his voice reached with that word, but he felt it was justified.

"Please. You wanted to try something new, and I think that if I can feel it's definitely _you_, I'll be able to forget him."

"Um…" Sirius suddenly felt ridiculously nervous for someone who had shared a dormitory with this boy for over five years. "Okay. But what if you don't like what I look like naked?"

Remus laughed, his whole body relaxing beneath Sirius's hovering one. "Don't be stupid, love. Of course I like what you look like naked. What do you think I've been wanking off to for the past week?"

"Really?" The thought of Remus wanking was one of the hottest things Sirius had ever imagined. Plus Remus had just called him 'love' and it caused an exciting, lemony chill to spark down his spine. "I have a really weird shaped mole on my shoulder."

"I've seen it, Padfoot," Remus said, his voice patient. "Many times."

"And now I think about it, men's bodies look pretty weird when they're turned on, too. What if you think it's too weird?"

"Is this really the time to be questioning our sexuality? Believe me, I'll find it hot. Are you telling me you won't find looking at me naked hot?"

"But you're ridiculously attractive!"

Remus gave him a strange look. "You actually believe that, don't you? Merlin, love really is blind, isn't it?"

"Stop it! You know I hate when you talk like that. Now – if I have to take my clothes off, you do too."

"Together then?"

What followed could definitely not be considered a mutual romantic strip tease. Fingers caught in buttons, socks caught in trouser-cuffs. Remus forgot to unbutton his shirt before pulling it over his head and it got caught on his ears. Sirius was wearing the purple and gold jumping-snitch boxers he'd nicked from James's drawer that morning.

"I can't believe the first time we're naked together in bed you are wearing another man's underwear," Remus complained.

"Mine were all dirty. It was these or Pete's '_I heart Honeydukes'_ underpants, and you know how they bag around the crotch on anyone smaller than Slughorn. You should be grateful."

"Just take them off. Before I'm completely put off."

Sirius grinned down at the obvious evidence that Remus definitely _wasn't_ completely put off and obeyed.

"My God, you're sexy," Remus breathed. "How did I land you?"

"No one else would put up with the side effects of having me as a boyfriend," Sirius told him. "The main one being that I am completely obsessed with you."

"So I see."

Sirius smiled, suddenly more sure of himself. "So what do you want to do?"

Remus flushed, but lifted his head in determination. The picture he made there; slim, scarred, wand-lit and nakedly aroused, made Sirius's heart leap about almost painfully in his chest. "W-what we always do. But with no c-c-clothes. Please."

Sirius reached out to touch Remus's chest with a wondering hand. He'd never tell Remus how much his hated stutter always triggered a wave of protectiveness inside him. "Okay. Would you like to – you know – be on top?"

Remus shook his head. "You be on t-top. I always p-p-preferred it like that. N-nothing can change that."

They shuffled round on the bed until Sirius was crouched over Remus again, this time completely naked. It was amazing how much more exciting it was like this. Beautifully private. Secret and special.

"It's okay," he said into Remus's ear. "I got you, babe."

"I know."

When he lowered his body it was nothing like before. It was skin-on-skin and hot and damp. A rush of tingly lust and raw magic that blossomed in their lower bellies and exploded in a fountain of firework sparks to rush to their trembling arms and legs.

"Oh!" was all Remus said, but he hadn't pulled away or looked frightened. His eyes were wolf-gold with desire and his arms and legs rose to wrap around Sirius. His mouth was wet and fierce against Sirius's, and bruising in its intensity.

It was thrusting and rubbing, harder and harder until everything exploded into shards of light and clean-edged shadows.

And then it was just cooling, sticky boy-limbs, triumphant laughter, muttered cleaning spells and sleepy, canine tangling together.

"Screw Greyback," Remus mumbled much later, his voice on the edge of sleep. "He never took _anything_."

"Too right," Sirius agreed, and dipped his face to inhale the scent of Remus's damp neck. "Though you could have thought of a _slightly_ more romantic comment after all that."

"Mmm. Love you, Pads."

"That's more like it. Better late than never. Love you, too, Moony."

* * *

"This had better not go wrong," said Peter, from where he was perched precariously on top of the large rickety desk they'd sneaked into their dormitory. "If you accidently cast some horrible irreversible spell on me, I'll never forgive you."

"It can't go wrong," James assured him. "It's a _Moony_ spell."

They always trusted Remus with the spell alterations. It amazed Sirius how Remus could instinctively _see_ how spells came together – wand movement, words, concentration, power fluctuations – and as a result, could always pinpoint the exact changes that needed to be made in order to change the spell to fit their needs. Right now, Remus looked embarrassed and a little pleased at the compliment. It was one of Sirius's favourite expressions.

"I only altered it a bit to fit our specifications," Remus said. "In actual fact, the base spell is one I found in an obscure little book called _Spells To Help You Survive On A Dessert Island_. I'm hoping the author's charmwork was better than his spelling. And that it genuinely _was_ a spelling error in the title, because if he really did mean 'dessert' as in 'that sweet course that happens after the main meal', then poor Wormtail is in danger of being turned into a blamange. Or possibly a peach trifle."

"_What?_"

"It's okay, Pete," James assured him. "I won't actually be aiming at you. If it all goes wrong, you'll only end up _sitting_ in blamange."

"Or peach trifle," said Remus.

"Or peach trifle."

"Why am I always the guinea pig?" Peter complained. "I don't even like peach trifle."

"That's good," Sirius said. "Because if you had half a brain, you'd remember that we're not, in fact, aiming to create peach trifle. We're trying to transfigure a boat. Though why we're letting Prongs do it is beyond me."

"The spell requires lots of raw power," Remus said.

"I have raw power."

"And intense concentration for an extended period of time."

Sirius scowled at him and vowed to do something to irritate him later. Possibly involving cold custard and Remus's favourite bedsocks.

"Shall I do it?" James asked, twiddling his wand like an old-time gangster with a gun.

"Go on then," Peter sighed. "But if it's peach trifle, you owe me big time."

The Marauders fell silent as James raised his wand. Sirius couldn't help a secret flush of brotherly pride at the confident way his best friend chanted the tongue-tangling words of the spell, or the way that his hand moved smoothly through the intricate wand movements. James's face was fierce with concentration as he focused all his attention on the charm . He suddenly looked much older and Sirius had the strangest feeling he was catching a glimpse of the grown man James was on his way to becoming.

After a full five minutes of intense wandwork and chanting, James broke off with a final flourish. There was a distinct creaking sound from the old desk that Sirius hoped was a sign that the spell beginning to work, and not that the rickety legs were beginning to give way under Peter's rather substantial weight.

The wood buckled and swelled, hard edges curved, legs grew sturdier and divided. As Peter hung on desperately to the morphing wood the desk changed completely, until with a final little shudder, it grew still again – now a completely new shape. Two new shapes, in fact.

James scratched his head.

Peter tried not to fall off his precarious new perch.

Remus sighed.

"Well," Sirius said eventually, "It's not peach trifle."

"It's not a boat either," Peter pointed out.

"Intense concentration and complete focus on the spell," said Remus, looking at James. "I did tell you. You can't let yourself be distracted. Your mind wandered to that story I told you earlier, didn't it?"

"It was a good story," James said. "And it was about a boat. I couldn't help it."

"What are these things?" Peter shifted to cling on more tightly. "I can't think that they could turn up in any normal story about a boat. They look like some sort of weird cross between an armadillo, a hippo and an elephant shrew."

Sirius studied the two large, identical statue-animals that Peter was straddling. It was a fairly accurate description.

"They're tapirs," Remus told Peter.

"Malayan tapirs," Sirius added. "Known as _Tapirus Indicus_, the only species native to Asia. The East Indies to be more specific."

Even Remus stared at him. "How on earth do you know that?" he asked.

"Well, you see the way that the wood has grown whitish to form the shape of a saddle across their flanks? That, and their particularly prehensile noses indicate their Asian origins as opposed to other species in South America."

"I didn't mean that. I meant how do you know anything about tapirs at all? Do you have a secret fetish for zoology that you have neglected to tell us about?"

Sirius blinked in surprise. "We all know about them. We watched a whole programme on them on the telly-vision at Wormtail's house at Christmas. Prongs kept comparing their noses to Snivellus's."

"How is it you can remember the scientific name, natural habitat and identifying features of a Malayan tapir, and yet can't remember how to pronounce the word; 'television'?"

"I have a photographic memory. How else do you think I get such brilliant grades without studying? And I pronounce it 'telly-vision' because it makes you wince and grimace in an amusing way."

"What _I_ want to know," Peter said meaningfully, "Is why I am perched dangerously on two giant wooden statues of tapirs – Malaysian or otherwise – instead of a boat."

"The animals came in two by two," said James. "Hurrah."

Sirius and Peter started at him blankly.

"_Noah's Arc_," Remus supplied. "Muggle Religious story. I believe there is a version of it in the wizarding Bible as well."

"It's about a boat," said James.

"And tapirs, apparently," Sirius said, eyeing the massive wooden animals.

"Actually I have no idea why it's tapirs. I wasn't thinking about them at all. "

"It must have been subconscious," Remus said.

"You have tapirs in your subconscious?" Peter asked James, looking anxious. "Is that normal? Should you be casting spells near my privates?"

"He'll be fine," Remus said. "As long as he keeps his mind on it properly next time. Try again, Prongs."

James sighed dramatically, but obediently raised his wand to begin the spell again. This time it went to plan. After five minutes of focused concentration, shifting, creaking wood and determined chanting, the chubbiest Marauder found himself sprawled inelegantly in the bow of a small rowing boat.

"Not particularly impressive," Sirius observed.

"We knew it needed work," Remus said, looking unfazed. "We just need quicker, bigger, fancier and some sort of time control."

"'_Just'_, the man says." James wiped his sleeve across his sweaty forehead. "That spell was no _'just'_."

"I'll fix it." Remus looked completely confident and Sirius felt a rush of affection for him. He caught his eye and smiled.

Remus grinned back.

"This, gentlemen," James said grandly, gesturing to the wonky little rowing boat, "will be known as the Golden Age of the Marauders. When we get it right, of course. Now I don't know about you lot, but I'm done in. Who's up for sneaking downstairs for a refreshing butterbeer?"

There were still shadows lurking around the edges of Remus's eyes as he smiled. For a golden age, Sirius mused, it was still pretty dark.


	75. Attack in Rome

**REMUS**

One of the things that Remus hated most about spending so much time in the Hospital Wing was he missed huge amounts of schoolwork. Because of the incident with Greyback, he was now so far behind in his classes he was spending nearly all his free time catching up in the library – much to his friends' disgust.

It was early one Saturday evening, not long after he'd been released from Madame Pomfrey's tender care, that he entered the library with James's astronomy notes clutched under one arm and Sirius's Herbology ones under the other. The library was almost deserted save for a few industrious students dotted around various study tables. One brilliant redhead in particular caught his attention. He headed over to Lily, who was sitting alone in the History of Magic section.

"Mind if I join you?"

Lily glanced up from a musty-looking tome that looked a lot like it had come from the Restricted Section. "Oh hi Remus. Not at all. Just push those books aside."

Remus glanced down at the book he was moving and felt his eyebrows rise. "_Forgotten Rituals and Ancient Rites. Blood Oaths Through the Ages, Wandless Magic at its Deeper Levels._ Heavens, Lily, what on earth are you working on here?"

Lily shrugged, bending her head over her book so her expression was obscured by a curtain of red. "I was researching something else and got interested in the subject."

Remus glanced around at the books on the table, a twinge of worry rising in his chest. Some of them contained material that was close to Dark Magic. "What subject?"

There was a pause and for a moment Remus thought she wasn't going to answer. Then Lily sighed and said; "What do you know about Oath Magic?"

"Oath Magic? A fair bit, actually. James and Sirius looked into it once in our third year. They wanted to find some kind of blood oath for us to swear to keep us friends forever."

"My God, Remus, do you know how dangerous that is?"

Remus bristled a little. "Of course I do. And so do they. When we looked into it a bit more and saw some of the consequences, well…" he shrugged.

"So you didn't do it?" Lily looked very relieved.

"Of course not." Remus didn't tell her that James and Sirius had only stopped looking when they found out they had become part of Remus's pack. In their eyes, that was better than any blood oath that could be sworn.

"So…" Lily hesitated. "Potter knows all about them?"

Remus frowned and leaned forward across the desk. "Of course he does. Probably better than anyone in this school except for Sirius and Dumbledore. He knew a fair amount to begin with being from a pureblood family. They're big on their Oaths. What's all this about, Lily?"

"So Potter knew what he was doing when he swore on his magic that day in the bookshop?"

Suddenly it all fell into place. Remus thought back to the day they were attacked – Lily helpless as the Death Eater held his wand against her head, James promising on this magic that they wouldn't attack as long as the man released Lily without hurting her or any of the others and left. The flicker of purple magic that had coiled around his wrist.

He smiled grimly. "He knew exactly what he was doing."

And he had. James, for all his faults, was fiercely brave and so loyal it sometimes frightened Remus – the lengths he would go to protect those he loved. If he had broken his Oath that day, he would have been forcefully stripped of his magic. Most wizards and witches didn't survive the process, but if they did, they weren't just left as squibs. They were left as empty, wounded versions of themselves. As though someone had ripped both arms and both legs from their body and then left them there with wounds that would perpetually gape and bleed – never healing or becoming less painful. That's what it was like for a wizard who had broken an Oath sworn on his magic.

Lily pursed her lips and looked down at her book again, though Remus knew she wasn't reading it. "Why would he do that for me? He didn't even hesitate."

Remus felt a rush of joy when he saw her expression. Years and years of pining and pointless declarations of love were finally paying off for his friend. James was going to…hell, he had no idea what James was going to do. He fought to keep the grin off his face.

"He's told you why every day since he was thirteen. He loves you."

"But he can't!" Lily looked rather frantic. "It's just some stupid schoolboy crush. It's only because he can't have me."

Remus shook his head. "It may have started that way, Lily, when he was eleven and first laid eyes on you. But since then, it's grown into more than that. You may not feel the same way, but James Potter would die for you without even stopping to think about it. If Voldemort and his Death Eaters ever attacked the school, you would be the first person he dived in front of."

Lily gave a rather watery laugh. "Rubbish. It would be you."

"Oh no," Remus smiled. "He would rely on me to be diving in front of Sirius."

"_You_?" Lily laughed. "I can understand him relying on Black to dive in front of you – I'll never understand how you got the idiot so besotted with you, by the way – but I hardly think _you're_ the heroic diving type."

"Werewolf, remember?" Remus said, keeping his voice low. "I know you figured me out years ago, but we haven't ever talked about it much. How much do you actually know about werewolves? There was a case about seven years ago of a werewolf woman who fell in love with a Muggle man. They were targeted by a gang of pureblood wizards as abominations and the gang attacked them one night while they were out for a walk. All the authorities found of the wizards was a strewn mess of body parts, floating in great pools of blood. The Muggle man was unharmed."

Lily's eyes were wide. "What happened to the werewolf?"

"Whipped and then executed with a silver axe. It's what they do to those of us who let our true natures show."

"But she was just trying to protect her lover!" Lily's voice was indignant and horrified, though still hushed. "If she'd been a wizard and had killed those men, it would have been called self defense." She paused. "Did she just – you know – transform and chew them to pieces? Can you do that?"

"No werewolf can transform outside the full moon without the aid of very dark potions. I'm guessing she just ripped them to pieces with her bare hands. It's what I would do if someone tried to attack Sirius when he was helpless."

Perhaps it was the way he had said it – calm and matter-of-fact – but for the first time since Lily had found out about his secret she looked a little afraid. She gave a very shaky smile. "I'll remember that the next time he's being particularly annoying and keep a reign on my temper."

"Oh, he deserves all the good natured hexing he is dealt with," Remus assured her, desperate to get her to see past the wolf again. Other than the Marauders, Lily was his only real friend and he couldn't bear for her to be afraid of him. "But the truth is, Lily, I _am_ very strong and very fast. My senses are heightened by the curse. I don't like to use them because they bring the wolf closer to the surface, but they're there when I need them. I would use them to protect you as well, you know."

"Oh Remus." Lily's face softened and she leant across the table to cover one of Remus's hands with her own. "I know that. I'm not afraid of you. I'm just afraid of what will happen to you if something like that were to happen. I couldn't bear to see you executed, and Black would be – God – unstoppable. Who knows what he would be capable of if someone hurt you. The other two as well. And me." She smiled tremulously. "The wizarding world would shake in its foundations."

And it would, Remus thought. If Sirius, James, Peter and Lily were to turn their minds to revenge, the havoc they could wreak would be unimaginable. It was his own turn to feel a little afraid.

"I'll try and avoid ripping anyone to shreds, then," he joked rather feebly.

"You do that." Lily patted his hand and drew back. "So….who would leap in front of Pettigrew? That girlfriend of his? The Ravenclaw with the moustache?"

"Doreen Short," Remus said, his voice reproving. "No. To be honest, I reckon she only puts up with him because she can't get anyone else. Poor bloke. I don't have the heart to tell him. But we don't have to worry about Wormtail. There's no point anyone trying to leap in front of him. He'll be too busy leaping behind someone else. Our Pete has a healthy sense of self-preservation."

"Not very Gryffindor is it?"

Remus shrugged. "There are different kinds of bravery. Peter's is a quiet kind, I suppose."

"A better kind."

"Better than James and Sirius, you mean?" Remus a shook his head. Why was Lily so determined to think the worst of them? "The Oath may not have convinced you, but those boys have done more for me than you could ever imagine. You have no idea, Lily, what they have risked and worked for in an effort to protect me. You think they're all loud, brash arrogance, but there're so many things that no one even knows about."

Lily looked a little ashamed. "Things like what?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not? Are they dangerous things? Illegal things?"

Remus thought about the animagus transformation and all the risks that had been involved – both in the process of becoming animagus and in the consequences there would be if they were ever found out.

"I can't tell you, Lily. I'm sorry. But I really think you should give James a chance. I know why you didn't want to be with him before. He acted like an idiot. But he's grown up a lot over the last little while. Most girls would leap at the chance to date him."

"I'm not most girls."

"No. You're the one he loves."

"Are you sure? Really sure, I mean. Like you-and-Sirius sure?"

Remus didn't even pause. "Yes."

Lily shook her head. "I wish I didn't trust you so implicitly."

"So you'll give him a chance?"

"I might consider maybe thinking about giving him a chance."

"And the sad thing is," Remus laughed, "even that unconvincing and rather lackluster statement would have him dancing insanely with joy on the roof of the Gryffindor tower singing triumphant Quidditch songs and declaring that it was the best-day-of-his-life-ever-bar-none."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Don't you say a thing, Remus Lupin."

"No me," he promised, raising his hands in surrender. "Quaffle's in your court, Lily Evans. But if you do anything to hurt him…"

"I know, I know. It's ripped up bits of arm and leg floating in a river of Lily-blood."

"Well…" Remus winced. "You'll be getting some serious silent treatment anyway. And I've recently discovered a marvelous spell that makes a person's hair fall out and not grow back for six months. All their hair. And it's handily amalgamated with a wig-repelling charm. I've been dying to try it on someone."

Lily clutched at her long, red hair looking even more horrified by this scenario than by the river-of-Lily-blood one. "You wouldn't."

"I would. And don't you forget it."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It was close to curfew by the time Remus returned from the library. He climbed back through the portrait hole and headed up to the dormitory. He hadn't intended to sneak up on his friends, but they obviously hadn't heard him as he approached. James, Sirius and Peter were sitting on James's bed, crowded round what appeared to be the most current copy of the _Daily Prophet._

"I'm not saying we shouldn't keep our eye out for more information," Sirius was saying. "All I'm saying is that we mustn't show Moony. It would just upset him and there's nothing he can do about it."

"Nothing I can do about what?" he asked, stepping into the room.

The three other boys jumped and swung round to look at him. "Nothing," James said unconvincingly. "We weren't talking about you."

"Really?" Remus went over to drop his books into his trunk. "So you have another secret werewolf friend who you've nicknamed 'Moony'? Should I be jealous?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Really, Prongs. You can't lie worth a damn."

"I can't lie to _Moony_ worth a damn. There's no real point trying. We all know he'll see through it in a second."

"Well?" Remus said. "What is it? You may as well show me."

Peter reluctantly held out a page of the _Prophet_ to him. "There's been a string of Death Eater attacks in Italy," he said. "Rome. Where your parents are at the moment."

"Yes, thank you, Wormtail," Sirius snapped. "I'm sure he could have figured that one out for himself."

Peter flushed and ducked his head.

"Don't take it out on Peter, Sirius," Remus sighed, scanning the article. It was obvious that there were a surprisingly large number of Death Eaters gathered around Rome for some reason. His heart felt lead-heavy and painful in his chest.

The others were quiet while he finished the article, then crumpled it up and tossed it into the bin.

"You really can't do anything, Moony," James reiterated. "If your parents are supporting Voldemort, there's nothing you can do."

Remus laughed harshly. "Are you sure you should be saying his name? People are saying it's cursed now. Anyone who says it ends up attacked by Death Eaters."

"Well at the rate they're going, that's not saying much," Sirius said, his expression grim. "People are being attacked left, right and centre. That article said it seemed like they were looking for something. I wonder what it is?"

"I can't do this right now," Remus said, dropping back onto his bed. "I'm too tired. All this catching up is doing my head in."

Sirius came over to sit beside him. "We know, babe. That's why we were going to hide that article."

"I'm glad you didn't. I'd rather know."

Sirius shimmered and blurred into Padfoot, then wormed his way into Remus's side. Remus smiled and curled his arm around the dog. Sirius could always tell when he just needed this simple comfort.

"Hey," James said loudly. "No snogging."

"James," Remus said patiently. "He's a dog. I don't snog dogs."

"I don't want any details about what you two do behind those bed curtains, thanks."

"And I hope you remember that comment when you and Lily are going at it behind your bed curtains," said Remus unable to stop the grin spreading across his face.

James eyes widened. _"When_ Lily and I…"

"I'm not promising anything," Remus said hastily. "But I thought you'd like to know she's definitely softening."

Slightly breaking his promise to Lily was worth it to see the way James's eyes lit up. It was like someone had stuck a wand in his ear and cast the _lumos_ charm.

"Moony, you are my god. I shall worship you until the day I die."

Sirius blurred back into human form to say; "Get in line, grass-eater."

"Thanks, all the same," Remus said. "But it was your heroic rescue in the shop that did it, Prongs. It was all you."

"Yeah right." James grinned at him fondly. "I know perfectly well that Lily would never see past her preconceptions of me without the aid of a little Moony charm."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It was only two days later that things really came to a head.

Remus was in DADA being taught by yet another professor in a long line of supply teachers that had been sent to them by the Ministry this year. This one was a mousy, unappealing little man who appeared to be more afraid of a class full of sixth year students than of the army of vampires he claimed to have faced.

There was a knock on the door and Professor McGonagall peered round the frame. "Excuse me Professor Twigworth, but I need to talk urgently to Remus Lupin."

There was a swooping feeling in Remus's stomach. What could possibly be urgent enough to have him pulled out of class when Professor McGonagall knew he was desperate to catch up? Had someone found out he was a werewolf? Was he going to be expelled? Executed? On the run?

"You stay here Mr. Black," Professor McGonagall added, and Remus glanced round to see Sirius halfway out of his seat. He slowly sat back down again, his eyes anxious and apologetic as they met Remus's.

Standing numbly, Remus tipped his books into his bag. Without looking back at his friends, he followed Professor McGonagall out of the door. He didn't think he could face seeing his own apprehension reflected in their expressions.

He hurried after his Head of House as she swept up the corridor in the direction of the Hospital Wing. More and more questions rose in his head.

"Professor…?"

"Not here, Mr. Lupin."

He snapped his mouth shut again, tripping over his feet as he followed her into the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey and Dumbledore were both waiting inside.

"Take a seat, Remus," Madame Pomfrey said, her voice gentle as she waved him over to one of the uncomfortable visitor's chairs.

"What's going on?" Remus asked, his voice a breathy squeak.

"I'm afraid it's your parents."

For one heart-stopping moment, Remus's mind was filled with a picture of Serena and John Lupin. _They are alive and well_, he pictured Madame Pomfrey saying. _They want you back. _He was even more shocked to find that his instinctive reaction was; _No! I want to stay with the Anders!_

Then it occurred to him- she was talking about the Anders. "W-what wrong? Are they ok-k-kay?"

"There was an attack in Rome..."

_They were discovered to be supporting Voldemort, _Remus's mind whispered._ They have been taken to Azbakan. They've been put in prison because of you._

"They're in St. Mungo's. They're both alive, but it was a close call."

Remus fought down a wave of nausea. He couldn't tell if it was horror or relief.

"W-what happ-ppened to them?"

"They were at the research facility and Death Eaters attacked."

"R-reasearch facility?" Nothing seemed to make sense and Madame Pomfrey's voice seemed to be coming from a great distance.

"You know – the werewolf research facility in Rome. You must know about it. That's why they were in there to begin with. Didn't they tell you?"

"N-n-neil told me they w-were there for work." The tiniest bubble of impossible hope was building in Remus's stomach.

"Wait a moment," Professor McGonagall interrupted. "Are you telling me you know nothing about the Wolfsbane Potion Research Programme?"

Remus shook his head, the bubble still swelling.

"But they've been funding it for years! Ever since they adopted you, in fact. They pour every knut they can afford into that programme. Didn't you ever wonder where all their money was going? Didn't you ever wonder where _they_ were going when they travelled around the world looking for ingredients?"

The bubble had divided into hundreds of tiny bubbles which were fizzing up into his brain and making him feel dazed and light headed.

"Minerva, please control yourself," Madame Pomfrey said sternly. "Can't you see the boy's in shock?"

"But how can he not know?"

"I suppose they didn't want to get his hopes up. In case it didn't work."

"Th-they were funding w-w-werewolf research?" Remus knew his voice was barely above a whisper, but Dumbledore, who until now had let the women handle the situation, heard him and stepped forward.

"Rome, Mr. Lupin, is the only place in the world that doesn't regard werewolves harshly. Their founders, Remus and Romulus," he nodded to Remus, noting the irony of his name, "were raised by wolves, and some legends claim they were werewolves themselves. For that reason, there is a big research facility there that's been investigating a way to make werewolves' lives easier for decades. Recently they have been working on developing a potion that enables the drinker to keep his own mind over the time of the transformation. Your parents were deeply involved – particularly in discovering and bringing back experimental ingredients from around the world."

Remus's mind was whirling and fizzing, and all he could think was; _They weren't supporting Voldemort! All this time they weren't supporting Voldemort. Why on earth did they not just TELL me?_

"Unfortunately," Dumbledore continued, "Voldemort came to hear about a recent breakthrough in the development of the potion and sent Death Eaters to raid the facility; cursing, hexing or stealing the knowledge of the research from everyone there. Years of research have been lost. It will be a long time before they reach this stage again." His blue eyes, behind their half-moon glasses were sympathetic. "He plans to lure in werewolf supporters with promises of the potion."

And that was why Greyback hadn't smelled like he was lying when he had promised a potion to make life easier for werewolves who agreed to join Voldemort's forces, Remus realized. He'd been speaking truthfully – at least to some extent.

"My p-parents?"

"We'll take you to see them now," Madame Pomfrey said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "But I must warn you…" she took a deep breath. "Neil was the only person at the facility properly trained in dueling and took it upon himself to try and protect the others there. He was in the heaviest part of the fighting and, I'm sorry, Remus, but I'm afraid he's lost his legs."

"L-l-lost his…?" They had left it until now to mention this?

"I know it's a lot to take in. It was a cutting curse and a Healer didn't get to him in time."

"Both l-legs?"

"Yes. I'm really, really sorry."

This was awful. He was lurching drunkenly between horror and relief and his mind had no time to catch up. He wished Sirius was here to hold his hand and ask the right questions. His damn stutter made it so difficult. "G-g-g-g-g…"

"Remus." Madame Pomfrey put her hand gently on his shoulder when it appeared the words weren't going to appear any time soon. "There's nothing they can do. If the healers had got to him straight away, it would have been different. But it was an ambush situation and so few people even made it out alive. Angela is doing better. She broke some ribs and a collar bone and dislocated a shoulder, but she's well on the way to being better now. They wanted to see you. Are you happy to go?"

Remus nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Okay." She held up an old-fashioned nurse's watch. "This is a portkey. You touch that end there."

Remus barely noticed the nauseating pull of the portkey. His mind and every organ in his body were already churning and the words; '_his legs, his legs'_ kept surfacing again and again in his head.

When he looked up again, they were standing in a waiting room in St. Mungo's. It was full of people – many of whom looked as grey-faced and shaken as he felt. Madame Pomfrey reached out and caught the arm of a green-robed Healer as she passed.

"Excuse me, Nora, but this is the Anders' son. May we go and see them?"

The Healer's eyes settled distractedly on Remus and she nodded. "Of course. I believe they're in ward seven. You know the way, Poppy." She hurried off in the direction of a man who had just staggered in with his face on backwards.

"This way, Remus." Madame Pomfrey put her hand on his back and steered him down one of the corridors leading away from the waiting room. Everything seemed extra bright and fast-moving. Remus felt as though he was wading through jelly while people, lights and objects flickered past him in a slipstream.

The ward she led him to was small and private, containing only two beds in which Remus's parents lay. Their heads turned towards the door as it opened and both faces broke into smiles at the sight of their adopted son.

"Remus," Neil said, who was on the bed closest to the door. He held out his hand and Remus stumbled over to grip it, trying not to notice how short the outline of Neil's body looked beneath the covers. "How are you doing, son?" His face, which had always been boyish and cheerful, looked disturbingly old and haunted.

"Fine." Remus felt his heartbeat settle now he could actually see the Anders and ensure for himself that they weren't still on the brink of death. The world around him slowed down and things came into focus. "B-better than you two, anyway." He smiled shakily at Angela and walked round so he could sit on a chair that had been placed between the two beds. He leaned down to kiss her cheek. It was red and roughened – evidence of too many tears, perhaps.

A short awkward silence fell between them before Remus, unable to help himself, blurted out; "Why didn't you tell me?"

Neil and Angela exchanged glances.

"About the research?" Angela questioned gently. "For a number of reasons, love. We didn't want you to get your hopes up in case it came to nothing. And we also didn't want you to feel guilty about the fact we were pouring money into it. You feel guilty when we buy you a birthday present, for Merlin's sake. We thought you might completely overreact to this, even though we can't think of anything we would rather have been spending our money on."

It made sense. That's what was so frustrating. It was something Remus might have done if he was in their position. Remus bowed his head forward and couldn't help laughing, though he knew it sounded bitter and slightly hysterical.

Neil squeezed his hand. "What's wrong, Remus?"

Remus looked up, swiping damp eyes with the back of his free hand. "I thought you were supporting Voldemort." It was strange how easy it was to say it, as though the words were so heavy there wasn't even room for a stutter.

Both Neil and Angela gaped.

"It made sense," Remus defended himself. "You never have any money. Voldemort was promising a potion that would help werewolves over full moon. I know you were both desperate to find something to make them easier for me. You asked me if I'd been approached at school by Death Eaters. You lied about why you were travelling during term time – I know because Mr. Potter is Neil's Auror partner and he wasn't sent anywhere. In fact nearly all the Aurors are being kept in Britain at the moment to help with the problems here. And they said in the paper than sympathetic families from all over Britain were funding Voldemort's cause."

"Merlin…" Neil murmured, his voice blank with shock. "When you say it like that, it _does_ seem a logical explanation."

"Why didn't you _say_ something, Remus?" Angela asked.

"Because I thought you were doing it for me, and it was too awful. I didn't want to get you into trouble."

"Oh, my poor love. Come here." Angela held open her arms and Remus shifted to sit on her bed and gingerly put his arms around her, wary of her healing injuries. "What a bagful of misunderstandings we've been lugging round with this family," she said into his hair. "I suppose it takes practice to begin to understand how we should trust one another."

"And now you've been hurt because of it," Remus said, his eyes moving to the place where Neil's legs should have rested. "I'm so, so s-sorry, Neil. I wish none of this had happened."

Neil sighed. "If wishes were fishes, my lad, we'd walk on the sea. I'll do my mourning and get over this. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't my fault. It was all Voldemort. Those of us who are Aurors are being faced with situations like this more and more every day. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened."

"But it's not fair that it was you! You've already been injured. What about your knee? It's because you were recovering from that that you taught at Hogwarts for a year."

Neil smiled. "I always considered that a blessing," he said. "If I hadn't taught at Hogwarts, I wouldn't have met you. I've done my share of Why-Me?'s. But why _shouldn't_ it be me? There were a lot of people in that battle who had it a lot worse than I did. Twenty-three dead. And it would have been twenty-four if Angela hadn't saved my life."

"You did?" Remus turned a wide-eyed gaze on his adopted mother who looked very small, wispy and frizzy-haired to be a hero.

Angela smiled. "Your father was determined to protect everyone. He was covering us while we tried to find an escape route out the facility. We were down in the basement potion labs when they attacked. We were flooing people out as quickly as we could while he dueled three Death Eaters on his own."

"Three?" Remus asked, awed.

"I wasn't really dueling them," Neil said, voice wry. "It was mostly just defense – trying to hold them off for as long as possible. The cutting curse slipped through my shield. Sliced my legs off so quickly I barely felt it. Half a foot higher and I would have been completely sliced in half." His laugh was slightly higher than normal. "Next thing I know I'm on the floor bleeding everywhere and Angela's leapt in front of me. Remind me to _never_ complain about her fashion sense again."

Remus blinked. "You what?"

"The Death Eater that did this to me?" Neil nodded to his legs. "He was strangled to death with one of her sentient scarves while she took down one of the others with a blasting curse." He smiled at Angela with such love in his eyes that Remus felt ashamed to be intruding on it.

The tiny appliqué lion on Angela's nightgown let out a smug (though rather small and squeaky) roar. Remus looked at it with renewed respect. "Your clothes are loyal to you?" he asked in bemusement. "They try to protect you?"

"I've had that scarf for over ten years," Angela said. "I suppose it picked up on some of my emotions or something."

"That's insane," said Remus. "But good. Very, very good. I don't think I could have coped with losing yet another parent."

"You lost about one third of one," Neil said, glancing down his body with a bitter twist to his mouth. "They're ordering me one of those hovering chairs. And I won't be able to work in the field anymore. It's all paperwork at the Ministry from here on in."

He made it sound light-hearted, but Remus heard the underlying grief and horror underneath. He could barely comprehend what it would be like to lose his legs. Perhaps a little like how it had felt to lose his humanity. He hoped his understanding of that would help him to support his father through the dark months ahead.


	76. Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of Firewhiskey

**SIRIUS**

Madame Pomfrey, caving under the pressure of three whining sixteen-year-old boys, told the other Marauders what had happened to Neil and Angela in Rome. Sirius staggered round in a daze for the rest of the day, his mind churning at a nauseating rate, flicking from unutterable relief that the Anders hadn't been supporting Voldemort after all, to horror at the fact that Anders had lost his legs. He couldn't even begin to imagine how Remus was coping, and not knowing how he was doing was driving Sirius half insane.

By the end of the week, he had driven most of Gryffindor insane as well and as a result, when Remus stepped through the portrait hole on Saturday morning, the entire common room erupted in cheers.

Remus paused in surprise, his hand still on the frame of the portrait, amber eyes wide and wary. "What's going on?"

"Your lads," Frank said, sending a scathing look in Sirius's, James's and Peter's direction, "have been wreaking havoc since the moment you left. Especially that one." He pointed to Sirius who contrived to look innocent, even as his heart hammered and his body ached to fling itself dramatically at Remus in a shameful display better played out in one of Evan's Muggle romances.

"_My_ lads?" Remus, Sirius was relieved to see, looked a lot better than he had expected – exhausted, but half-smiling and relaxed in a way that Sirius hadn't seen since he'd first suspected the Anders of supporting Voldemort. "Why do I have to claim responsibility for them?"

"Everyone knows they're your lads, Lupin, " Michael Douglas chimed in. "You can't dump 'em on us now."

"Sod off, Douglas," Sirius pulled himself to his feet and moving over to usher Remus towards the stairs. He didn't dare quite touch him for fear that once he started he might not be able to stop. "C'mon, Moony. Here, give us your bags. Coming lads?" This last was directed towards James and Peter.

"Ooh-er," Alice said, nudging Lily. "Looks like a little 'welcome back' celebration is in the works. Are ladies allowed to join, or is it an all-guy thing?"

Sirius missed the days when Alice was a shy, mousy little thing who wouldn't say 'boo' to a goose for fear of hurting its feelings. Right now, there was no doubt as to what she was insinuating.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Richards," James snapped, flushing scarlet.

"Come on, Prongs," Remus touched James's shoulder. "Ignore her."

James hesitated, threw an angry scowl in Alice's direction, then stomped up the stairs. The others followed him.

"It's your own fault," Remus told him, dropping back onto his bed. "It sounds like you made life a living hell for them since I've been gone."

"That was all Padfoot," James said, punching Sirius in the arm rather harder than was necessary. "Wormtail and I just took some of the blame so he wouldn't accidently out himself in front of the whole school with all his pining."

"You were pining?" Remus smiled fondly at Sirius.

"No," Sirius knew his tone was sulky.

"How's Professor Anders?" Peter asked, as he and James collapsed on his bed.

Remus frowned, a resigned expression flitting across his face. "As well as can be expected. _Better_ than can be expected most of the time. He's very resilient, but sometimes it just – you know – catches up with him. I think it's going to be a difficult Christmas."

"Maybe we can invite him to Hogwarts for our Christmas prank?" James suggested. "It's all coming together now and it's going to be awesome. Only three weeks 'til we break up for Christmas. I'm thinking we should do it in the last week."

"Erm…" Sirius found himself grinning at Remus's expression. "Much as I'm sure Neil would appreciate the genius of the prank idea, I feel he might be at a disadvantage having no legs and all."

"Lots of pirates had no legs," James pointed out. "They're famous for it. Well that and the parrots and the ships and the buried treasure."

"And saying 'Ho ho ho and a bottle of rum,'" Peter added. "And pillaging girls and ravishing seaports."

Sirius rolled his eyes and wondered why they bothered explaining things to Peter at all. "It's '_Yo _ho ho', you idiot. You're not Santa Claus. And you pillage _seaports_ and ravish _girls_. Honestly! How would you ravish a seaport?"

"Shag a ship?" James suggested.

"I don't think that's physically possible," said Remus.

"I don't see why not." Because Sirius could never resist taking things that one step too far. "Lots of holes and poles on board a ship if that was your thing."

"Oh, mate…" James looked revolted. "I just got a really disturbing mental image of Wormtail going at it with a … oh, Godric, I don't even want to tell you in case it comes true."

"I would never shag a ship," Peter said, scandalized.

"Why not?" Sirius asked. "Your girlfriend has a moustache. You're obviously kinky."

"Doreen does not have – "

"_Lads!_" They all turned to look at Remus who smiled at them fondly. "Shut up."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"So you're really okay?" Sirius murmured, having snuck behind Remus's bed-curtains after lights out that night. "You're not just pretending?"

"Sirius…" Remus squirmed around until he was wrapped around Sirius like a particularly affectionate octopus. "I gave up pretending with you guys long ago. You know you can always see through me."

"No we can't," Sirius said stubbornly. "You like us to think we do, but we can't always. That's why I have to check."

"Well, I'm fine. I promise."

"Good." There was a long silence in which Sirius was happy to lie in the warm darkness enjoying Remus's closeness and his scent, which wrapped around Sirius like a favourite blanket. Since, however, they were both sixteen and hadn't seen one another for a while, hormones eventually disrupted the quiet and made themselves known. Remus sighed and shifted a little against Sirius, leaving no doubt as to what he was thinking about. "Wanna shag?" Sirius asked.

"Oh, la, good sir. I swoon with delight at your romantic proposition." Remus's voice was very dry.

Sirius grinned in the darkness, knowing that what he and Remus did couldn't really _quite_ be considered shagging yet, but also knowing the word would distress James and Peter. Sure enough, two voices rose shrilly from neighboring beds.

"_Silencing charms!_"

Life didn't get much better than this.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Christmas fever swept through Hogwarts like a giant tinsel-and-holly festooned snowdrift. This year, the seventh years had been given the task of decorating the school as part of a NEWT Charms assignment and the results were even more awe-inspiring than usual.

Never-melting snow and icicles adorned every wall, pillar and buttress of the castle and long pieces of tinsel in House colours slithered and hissed through the halls like snakes on acid. Giant Christmas baubles bobbed at ceiling level in every room producing periodic showers of glitter to rain down on the heads of passing students, and golden animated angel-figurines congregated in the corridors between classes to serenade pupils and staff to lessons – though the carols were so out of tune that many of them had been charmed mute by those who's nerves could no longer stand the strain.

Pieces of mistletoe lurked above doorframes, ready to ambush anyone passing through, and the suits of armour that lined many of the corridors of Hogwarts had caused a number of heart palpitations and three actual panic attacks by suddenly bellowing out "HO HO HO!" in a disturbingly malevolent way, usually when the individual in question was alone in the corridor.

The Great Hall was particularly spectacular and the four Christmas trees resembled huge, sparkling cones they were so coated in decorations. A particularly industrious group of seventh year Ravenclaws had even figured out a way to charm the ceiling of the Great Hall so that at night the stars spelled out heart-warming Christmas messages (or, after James and Sirius had nicked the spell and altered it a bit, commentaries on the appearance and usually-fictional personal habits of various students, most of whom happened to be in Slytherin).

"Hah! This?" James said, sweeping his arm to take in the Great Hall. It was the night before 'Operation Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of Rum' was due to take place and the Marauders had snuck down into the Great Hall to begin preparations for the prank. "This will pale into insignificance," James continued, "when they experience the greatest prank of all time."

"Shut it, you idiot," Sirius hissed. "Do you want one of the ghosts to hear and report us?" He was still feeling sore about the fact that he and Remus had been exiled from beneath the invisibility cloak - now too small now to cover four sixteen-year-old boys. The two of them were the only ones who had bothered to master the invisibility charm. James claimed he didn't need to because he owned the cloak, and the charm was way beyond anything Peter could have managed without extensive training and frankly none of them could be bothered to teach him.

The downside was that it was a well-known fact that many of the more astute teachers – like Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall could sense invisibility charms in use, while no one, so far, had ever been able to sense the invisibility cloak.

"Let it go, Pads," Remus murmured, and Sirius felt him place a comforting hand in the small of his back. How he could sense where the small of Sirius's back was while they were both invisible Sirius didn't know, but he suspected werewolf senses. "He's not trying to replace you as best friend just because Pete's under the cloak and not you."

"I was thinking no such thing," Sirius lied.

Remus punched him lightly on the arm and Sirius could hear the unrepentant grin in his voice as he said; "We'd better get started. Pass us the potions, Prongs."

"Where are you?" James asked, head appearing from beneath the cloak.

The air beside Sirius shimmered and Remus appeared, wand in hand. Sirius felt the familiar catch in his chest at the sight of Remus in prank-mode. The disheveled hair and sly, slightly reckless gleam in his eyes that rarely appeared at any other time was detrimental to the steadiness of Sirius's knees.

"Here you go." James passed a couple of glass vials of potion over to Remus. "You start up at the teachers' table and Pete, you start over there by the windows. Don't miss anything or it'll all go wrong. Padfoot, you and I are on table-transfiguration duty. Don't forget to set the timers on the spells."

Sirius took the vial he was handed and headed over to the Hufflepuff table. He popped open the cork and winced at the smell. The potion was designed to enhance the power of any spell a person cast, as long as they'd dipped their wand into it first. It wasn't commonly used for a number of reasons. Firstly, because it only worked for one spell before you had to reapply it, which was fiddly and inconvenient. Secondly, it took two months and great skill to brew and some of the ingredients had made a significant dent in their allowances. Lastly, it smelled distressingly like old socks, and the scent seemed to hang around for hours afterwards. No amount of scrubbing would get rid of it.

Still, the Marauders desperately needed more power in order to carry off their prank, so they had given in and suffered through the long sock-scented nights as the potion simmered under the desk in their room, and endured the pulled faces and comments regarding their personal hygiene from the other students in the name of high quality prank-pulling.

Sirius cringed as he dipped his precious wand into the vile concoction, then took a deep breath and began spell-casting.

It took most of the night and most of the potion before they were finally finished. No section of wall or floor had been missed in the whole of the Great Hall and the main corridors beyond. It was just after five 'o clock in the morning when they congregated again just outside the Hall. Sirius felt sick and shaky from so much spell-casting and the other three looked pale and sweaty as well. There was the distinct odour of old socks in the air, particularly from Peter who needed rather more boosting than the rest of them.

"All done, lads?" James asked, grinning in spite of his exhaustion. "Good stuff. Let's head off to bed, then. Get some sleep before tomorrow. It's going to be a busy day." He waggled his eyebrows in a way that he obviously considered to be sly and debonair.

"Great Merlin, I'm glad it was Moony who was gay," Sirius groaned. "I have no idea what's possessed Evans to start giving in to your questionable charms."

They trudged up to the Gryffindor Tower and it was only when they dropped, exhausted, through the portrait hole and came face to face with a crossed-armed Lily Evans that Sirius realised he and Remus had forgotten to reapply their invisibility charms. James and Peter, who had been trailing behind them under the cloak (accompanied by a lot of hushing, tripping and accusations of foot-stomping) were either lost or keeping very, very quiet as he and Remus faced up to Gryffindor's most terrifying prefect.

"It's way past curfew," she said, her tone conversational, but the look in her eyes steely. "Do you mind telling me where you two have been?"

"I'm a prefect, too," Remus said, and Sirius stared at him in admiration. It took someone with balls of steel to stand up to Evans when she was in this mood.

"You're not on duty," she shot back. "And it's past duty-time anyway. Way past. Have you two been up all night? What have you been doing?" She sniffed. "And why do you smell like dirty socks?"

"Why are _you_ up?" Sirius asked, and then seriously regretted his rashness when she turned her attention on to him. A stair creaked in the ominous silence that followed - the kind of creak that might be made by two invisibility-cloaked individuals trying to sneak away while leaving their friends in the line of fire.

Lily swung round and looked suspiciously over her shoulder. When she was sure there was no one there, she turned back and said, "I fell asleep reading in the common room. Well? What's your excuse?" She crossed her arms tighter and even tapped her foot, which Sirius thought was cruel and underhand. No one should be subjected to angry female foot-tapping at five in the morning.

"What do you _think_ we were up to, Lily?" Remus piped up again, and Sirius wondered if he really did have a death wish. He wasn't even stuttering which meant he wasn't fazed by this turn of events. "I'd rather not go into detail if I don't have to."

Lily's eyes flickered from him to Sirius and back again, taking in their tired eyes, disheveled appearance and sweaty faces. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a small 'O' of realisation. "Oh! Oh, right! You were…yes…but…" She shook her head. "Of course you wouldn't want to do it in your…you know… because of Potter and Pettigrew…so…where _were _you?"

"Laundry room," Sirius said, in a flash of brilliance. "Lots of lovely soft piles of –"

"– Dirty socks," Remus agreed. "Hence the smell."

Lily winced. "You could not find a _clean_ pile of washing?"

"Well," Sirius invented, getting into the spirit of the lie, "It would just have got dirty again, wouldn't it? And we'd rather not give the house elves extra work."

There was another one of those Sirius-you-have-yet-again-gone-that-one-step-too-far silences that seemed to dog his every step.

"What?" he said. "It's true, what with all the – mmph!"

Remus smiled brightly at Evans who looked half relieved and half disappointed at his hasty intervention. Without moving his hand from over Sirius's mouth (it smelled very strongly of James's Quidditch socks after a long day's training), he dragged him towards the stairs up to the boys' dorms.

"Remus!"

Remus turned back to look at Lily.

"You shouldn't be out all night. It's against the rules."

"So is what we were doing," Remus said, truthfully, if misleadingly. "Sometimes you have to break the rules for a good cause."

"So shagging Black is a good cause?"

Sirius spluttered behind Remus's hand and even Remus's tawny eyebrows rose. Then he grinned and winked. "Who said I was shagging Sirius? I know I certainly didn't say anything of the sort."

Lily sighed. "Just get out of here. You're making my brain hurt."

"Your wish is our command." He gave a little bow and dragged Sirius up the stairs.

As soon as they were in the dorm, Sirius struggled out of Remus's grasp and hurried over to the window where he gratefully gulped in giant lungfuls of clean air. "In the name of Salazar and all his little goblins, Moony, you're not touching me again until that stench has worn off. It resembles 'Prongs's Pong' way too much for my comfort."

"Hey," James protested from where he was leaning over his trunk to pack away his invisibility cloak. "Leave off the 'Prongs's Pong' stuff, yeah?"

Sirius scowled at him. "Right brave Gryffindor you were, mate. The way you sneaked up those stairs to escape from a _girl_ was admirable."

"It was _Evans_!" James said, as though that explained everything. "And she was cross."

"How the Wizarding World must cower at the thought of us brave heroes graduating next year," Remus said wryly. He dug out the box that contained his healing supplies and pulled out two small balls of cotton wool which he proceeded to stuff far up both his nostrils.

Sirius, James and Peter stared at him.

"You thig it's bad for you?" he said, both nose and voice distorted by the cotton wool. "By sedse of sbell is a hu'dred tibes better thad yours. 'Progs's Pog' does'd eved begid to cover it."

"But," Peter frowned in confusion, "don't dogs and things _like_ bad smells?"

One of these days, Sirius thought, he would enjoy doing something particularly nasty to Peter for his complete lack of ability to employ even the smallest amount of tact. Right now he settled for flicking his wand and dangling Peter upside-down by his ankle and then directing him out of the open window so he was poised a hundred feet above the courtyard below. Peter was so petrified he couldn't even scream. He just emitted small squeaky whimpers of terror as he tried to force his body not to struggle.

Remus sighed. "Let hib back id, Padfoot."

"Did you not hear what he said?" Sirius demanded.

"I'm sure Moony did," James said, "but I also think Wormtail's actually wet himself. If your concentration breaks he really will go plummeting to his death."

Sirius frowned, but directed Peter back inside. No matter what he thoughtlessly said, Peter was still one of his best friends and the thought of him dying sent up a thrill of horror and fear into Sirius's chest.

"S-s-sorry, M-Moony," Peter chattered, his body overcome by trembling. "I didn't th-think."

"You never do," James murmured. "And one of these days you _know_ Padfoot will react without thinking – especially when it comes to Moony. So keep a lid on it."

Remus was scowling at Sirius, looking disturbingly menacing for someone with cotton wool balls stuffed up his nose. Sirius tried to avoid his eyes as he muttered; "Sorry Wormtail," As well.

"I cad fight by owd battles," Remus said, voice reproachful.

"Of course you can," Sirius agreed. "You just won't."

"Why don't we all get some sleep?" James suggested. "I'm knackered."

For four people who had just set in place what could be the most elaborate prank in the history of Hogwarts, they were remarkably subdued as they climbed into bed and drifted off to sleep.

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The excitement had made a full-fledged appearance again the next morning and Sirius felt as though he might pop with it as he was forced to sit quietly through that day's lessons. He, Remus and James were frequently forced to elbow Peter who was buzzing with anticipation that made his voice reach a fingernails-on-blackboard level of shrillness.

By the time dinner finally rolled around, a number of Gryffindors were eyeing them with great suspicion and when they sat down at the table, there was a bubble of empty seats surrounding them.

"What have you done?" Evans asked, coming up behind Sirius just as pudding appeared magically on the silver platters. "I knew you were up to something last night."

"Done?" Sirius affected his most wounded tone of voice and enjoyed the way it caused her eyebrows to furrow in annoyance. Evans was delightfully easy to wind up if one was feeling short of entertainment. "What makes you think we've done anything?"

"Don't even start, Black. I know something's up."

"You'd better believe it," Sirius said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at James. "Right, Prongs? Tell Evans what goes up every time you see her."

James flushed scarlet and he kicked Sirius hard beneath the table. "Shut up!"

The table gave a long, ominous creaking sound that reverberated in the sudden suspicious silence from the Gryffindors.

Sirius's attention jerked back to the prank at hand and he fought to prevent his face from breaking into a triumphant grin. The table creaked again and the wooden surface buckled a little. Around the Great Hall there were gasps and then shrieks as the tables began to shake and buckle even more.

"Oh, you lot are going to be in _big_ trouble if you've mucked around with the tables," Evans said, taking a step back as a large silver platter of trifle slid to the edge of the table and dropped off with a clang and a splatter of cream and peaches. "They're antiques, you know!"

James laughed and grabbed her arm. "Don't run away, Evans. Believe me – you really want to stick near the table."

She hesitated. "Why? What's going on?"

At that moment, the table lurched and heaved like a dying humpback whale and all the platters of pudding slid to the edges and began toppling off. Sirius felt himself laughing in glee and he swung round to share the moment with Remus, only to see the other boy sitting frozen in his seat, arms lifted high above his head, face deathly pale and covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Moony?" Sirius took a step closer, then gasped when he saw a giant silver platter lying across Remus's lap. He yanked it off and knelt beside Remus. "Are you okay? Did it burn you?" Remus was usually okay with handling silver sickles if he covered his hands with his sleeves first, but Sirius knew the house elf magic that controlled the coming and going of food also enhanced the potency of the silver for Remus.

"No." Remus gave a shaky laugh and slowly lowered his hands. "No, I'm fine, Padfoot."

There was a tightness at the edges of his eyes that belied his words and Sirius opened his mouth to protest when someone grabbed his hair and yanked upwards.

"Come on up lads. We're running short of time."

James and Peter stood above them on what now resembled a ship more than a table. It was curved and massive, with tall masts and billowing red sails displaying a golden lion rearing up in the centre. The rest of Gryffindor House, who had learned to follow the Marauders' lead whenever something peculiar happened, were clustered around them. The three other Houses were quickly following.

Sirius scrambled up onto the table and pulled Remus after him.

At that moment, the excited chatter was interrupted by an enraged shout from the staff table. Every student's head jerked in that direction and Sirius grinned as another part of the prank fell into place. The staff table and transformed rapidly into a giant wooden cage, long tendrils sprouting and hooking escaping teachers inside before hardening into bars. A bunch of wands hovered high above the cage, far out of reach of their owners.

A shocked silence fell among the students. This had been a risk, Sirius knew, but the Marauders always were about pushing boundaries.

"The perpetrators of this prank," Dumbledore said, his voice magnified but unruffled, "should be aware that any one of us could escape from this cage in a second – wands or no." His eyes, though, were twinkling madly , and he had a gentle, restraining hand on Professor McGonagall's arm.

"BUT WHERE WOULD BE THE FUN IN THAT?" A giant, hollow voice boomed from high above them. All heads tilted back to see a suit of armour standing on one of the massive oak beams of the Great Hall's ceiling. It was three times the normal size, wearing an eyepatch and tricorn hat over its helmet. One of its legs was wooden. "YO HO HO AND A BOTTLE OF FIREWHISKEY," the suit of armour added in a rather unconvincing pirate's accent.

"Kindly explain yourself," Professor McGonagall said, "or I will turn every one of you into mice and give my animagus form free reign."

"Being caged is really getting to her," James murmured. "Old McGoogly is not usually one for empty threats."

"Don't think that threat was empty, mate," Sirius said, feeling rather apprehensive as he eyed his Head of House's expression.

"THE AIM OF THIS GAME," The armour continued, "IS TO FREE THESE POOR TRAPPED EDUCATORS FROM THEIR WOODEN PRISON, AND IN DOING SO…" It gestured and there was a loud shuffle and clunk as a massive wooden chest floated down out of the beams, its lid open to reveal a glittering golden treasure. A gasp arose from the student ranks. "…WIN THE PIRATE'S TREASURE BRAVELY LIBERATED FROM THE GREAT MERCHANT, HONEYDUKES."

"Great Merlin!" a Ravenclaw fifth year exclaimed. "Is that all _chocolate_ money? _Honeydukes_ chocolate?"

It was odd, Sirius thought, that the delight on the students' faces grew even brighter at the news that the treasure was chocolate than when they'd thought it was real gold. It really said something about adolescent priorities.

"YOU WILL NEED A COMBINATION OF BRAVERY, BRAINS, CUNNING AND TEAMWORK TO WIN THIS MAGNIFICENT PRIZE FOR YOUR HOUSE."

Remus had been proud of that one. He'd pointed out that if they highlighted their respect of each of the Houses' qualities, the teachers would be more likely to play along instead of – you know – escaping, catching the Marauders and sentencing them to a horrible fate like scrubbing out the Owlry for all eternity with a Muggle toothbrush.

"Why?" yelled the mouthy Slytherin who Sirius was beginning to seriously dislike. He suspected the boy might be a cousin since he looked remarkably like Bellatrix around the eyes. "If we want, we can just jump down and let them out." He lowered himself down by rope from the Slytherin ship with its billowing green and silver sails, and started towards the professors' cage. At that moment, there was a groan of ancient stonework from the walls of the Hall. The Slytherin froze, turned slowly, then, in a clear demonstration of his House's knack for self preservation, sprinted back to his ship and began scrambling aboard again, his friends yanking at the rope and his robes in an effort to help.

He was only just quick enough. The main doors slammed shut with a massive crash, and water started oozing from the stonework of a walls, a trickle at first but rapidly turning into a stream and then a flood. The noise was incredible. The teachers' cage slowly rose above the rising waterline until it hovered at the end of the Hall. The professors inside looked a mixture of amused, reluctantly impressed and furious. They were all, however, following Dumbledore's lead and the old wizard was leaning casually against the bars with a mildly curious look on his face.

"YOUR CHALLENGE," the suit of armour continued, "IS TO DEFEAT ALL OBSTACLES ON THE WAY TO THE GREAT HALL FROM THE STARTING LINE AT THE END OF THE MAIN CHARMS CORRIDOR."

"The charms corridor?" Someone called from the Ravenclaw table.

"THE CHARMS CORRIDOR," the armour confirmed with a creaky nod of his head. "YOU WILL BE TRANSPORTED THERE IMMEDIATELY."

That was all the warning they were given before there was a click from the closed doors.

"Hold on, everyone!" James yelled, and every student in the hall rushed to obey him, clinging to any part of their ship they could find. In the middle of a Marauder prank, James Potter was not a man to be ignored.

The main doors burst open and the giant tidal wave of water that washed out into the main corridor, sweeping the ships out of the hall. Students screamed and clung on as they careened around corners and rebounded off stone walls. The ships jostled for room as the corridors weren't quite wide enough to fit two abreast. The Ravenclaw and Slytherin masts tangled together at one point and caused the ships to teeter dangerously towards one another. Students on the ships rushed to try and untangle the ropes, shrieking at one another while they did so.

"Lovely to see such displays of House camaraderie, eh, Padfoot," James said cheerfully, leaning casually against the captain's wheel as the Gryffindor ship sailed in the wake of the destruction. The Ravenclaw and Slytherin sails were tattered and wonky, but finally untangled.

Sirius grinned, knowing it looked a little savage. "Warms the cockles of me Black heart, matey."

The ships were beginning to slow now, and as they reached a large open seating area at the end of the Charms corridor, where the water finally stopped and pooled, they made creaky u-turns until they were in a neat line of four, facing the way they'd come.

There was a brief moment of surprised respite, then someone from the Hufflepuff ship quavered; "How do we made them go again?"

"Oars of course," Sirius said cheerfully. "Set the first years to work, why don't you? Down there, midgets." He waved an indignant bunch of Gryffindor first years in the direction of a trapdoor on the deck of their boat. "Just like the slave ships of old."

"Surely it would be wiser to put the strongest students on the oars?" a Ravenclaw called.

"Do what you want," James said. "I prefer to keep our most experienced witches and wizards above board to deal with the monsters."

"_Monsters_?" The cry rose up around the room, and Sirius noticed that the first years suddenly seemed more eager to be making their way below deck.

"You didn't think it was going to be _easy_ did you?" Sirius yelled above the racket.

"You're at an advantage!" Evan Rosier called from the Slytherin ship. "You know how to defeat anything you set!"

"Firstly," James said, leaning over the edge of their ship, "we never claimed to have set anything. Secondly, if we _were_ to create a bunch of mythical monsters to terrorize the school – which we didn't, of course - you don't think we'd be stupid enough to tackle them on our own, do you? These tricky pranksters, whoever they are, probably figured that if they set them loose, _someone_ was bound to figure out a way to defeat them, and that way everyone has an equal chance."

"You have _no _idea how to stop anything we're going to encounter?" Bethany, a fifth year Ravenclaw sounded aghast at the news. She wasn't alone.

"Nope," Peter said cheerfully. "Where would be the fun in that?"

"Great Salazar," Rosier said. "They're a bunch of psychopaths! And everyone says Slytherin House should be outlawed."

"And the professors are locked in a cage!" a tearful Hufflepuff wailed.

"Well." Sirius said rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "You lot can stay here and commiserate. Gryffindors! Hop to it!"

The Gryffindors hadn't been sorted into a House known for its bull-headed bravery for nothing. A cheer rose from the ranks of students, starting rather uncertain, but building in volume until they drowned out the complaints of the other Houses. First years threw themselves through the trapdoor to take up the oars below deck. Second and third years swarmed up the rigging under Remus's direction. He was the only one of the Marauders who had bothered to read the book they'd found on 'How to Sail Thy Transfigured Shippe'. Although they would start with the oars, they needed to be ready to use the sails in case a quick getaway was required. James and Sirius had been brushing up on wind charms.

"This bloody thing is impossible to turn!" Frank yelled, from where he and Douglas were heaving on the captain's wheel. James hurried over to help and between the three of them, they directed the Gryffindor ship back down the Charms corridor.

"Hey!" yelled Eloisa Smidgen, a seventh year from Ravenclaw. "Wait for us, you fools! We should stick together!"

"Not a chance!" Sirius yelled back. Adrenaline surged through him and he felt reckless and invincible. "This is a competition, Smidgen!"

"You have a death wish."

Sirius turned to grin at Lily who looked angry, but alert, her wand poised in her hand. "What a thing to say, Evans."

"You've locked up our teachers, unleashed a menagerie of monsters on the school, and have no earthly idea how to defeat them!"

"Oh, I'm sure Moony secretly looked it all up," Sirius said, glancing fondly over his shoulder at Remus, who was lecturing a couple of third years on the Health and Safety rules of climbing in the rigging of transfigured pirate ships. Remus, in spite of all protestations, was a Marauder at heart, and his face, (although strained and sweaty with what Sirius assumed was the stress of resisting his perfectly tendencies) glowed with excitement.

"How sure?" Lily asked, looking only slightly mollified.

"Very sure. I planted the books for him to read myself. You don't think I would do anything that would really put him at risk, do you? It's _Moony_."

Lily stared at him for a few seconds, then groaned and shook her head. "I don't get you, Black. Just as I think you're completely irredeemable you go and say something like that."

"Hey! Don't you accusing me of Hufflepuff sogginess and all that lark, Evans. I _am_ completely irredeemable and don't you forget it."

_CRUNCH!_

Sirius pitched backwards onto the deck, Lily sprawling on top of him, as the ship lurched.

"What the hell?" Sirius sat up, shoving Lily off him absently.

"Good grief, you really aren't one for girls, are you?" Lily muttered. "You didn't even_ try_ to go for a grope."

Sirius ignored her. Behind them, Gryffindor pupils were leaning over the back of the ship to hurl abuse at the Slytherins who had run into the back of their ship.

"It's not our fault you forgot to install brakes on this bloody thing!" yelled a very familiar voice. Sirius launched to his feet and shoved his way to the front.

"Oy, Reggie!"

There was a pause as Regulus registered Sirius's presence and for the briefest second his lip quirked upwards. Then he scowled. "Blood traitor!"

"Conformist!"

"Get a move on!" A distant voice from the Ravenclaw ship who jostled up behind the Slytherins.

"_Gryffindors!_" Frank called from the Captain's wheel. "Take arms at …er… possibly starboard!"

The ship creaked and rocked in the water as the Gryffindor lurched on mass in the direction that Frank was pointing. To their right, another water-filled corridor stretched in darkness towards the Ancient Runes class rooms. A light flickered in the darkness and Sirius frowned as he leaned over the wooden rail to get a closer look. He couldn't remember why they would have lit a …

_Splash_!Something surged up out of the water, and Sirius – quick-witted Marauder and Black to a core – stepped away just in time to avoid it. The carrot-haired fourth year, Boris Borchuck, who had come up beside him wasn't so lucky, though and he screamed as long, bony fingers gripped onto his arms and attempted to pull him overboard and into the water.

"Great Godric – _grindylows_!" Lily shrieked, from very near Sirius's ear.

Sirius sighed and reached over to grab a heavy textbook on dark creatures she had retrieved from her schoolbag. Lily had a lot to learn about battle tactics if she thought she'd have time to look up how to defeat anything they encountered. He brought the book down with a hard _thwap!_ On the Grindylow's fingers, where they were curled hard around Boris Borchuk's wrist. Both boy and Grindylow howled in pain, and the creature fell back into the water.

"My fingers!" Boris wailed, holding them to his chest. "You utter git – my fingers!"

"Well I'm sorry for saving your life," Sirius snapped. "Next time I won't bother."

"Why didn't you just use a spell?"

"A Grindylow's fingers are very brittle." Sirius deliberately used a tone that indicated he was talking to a fool. "The only way to get it to let go is to shatter its grip. You covered that in DADA last year, you idiot. Besides, they're just a bit bruised."

"Bruised! I can't _move_ them! And we had that brain-dead Ministry git for DADA last year. We didn't cover anything useful."

"Grindylows are dangerous!" Rebecca added, turning on Sirius, her face furious.

Sirius grinned unrepentantly at his ex-girlfriend.

"I'm serious! What on earth possessed you to unleash them on a bunch of inexperienced students?"

"Remus likes 'em."

Boris made an outraged noise that sounded remarkable like a sheep being sat on. "That makes no sense at all! If Lupin liked Hungarian Horntails would you have set them on the school?"

"Yup."

"Most likely."

"Probably."

"Yes."

The answer came from a number of different people including Sirius, James, Peter, Rebecca and anyone who had known the Marauders for any length of time and had grown used to their inexplicable protectiveness of Remus Lupin.

Boris opened his mouth to reply again when he was knocked off his feet, along with a number of other Gryffidors, by the Slytherin ship shouldering them down the darkened Runes corridor and overtaking them at top speed. Sirius suspected that a few of the nastier seventh years were below deck, whipping the Slytherin first years who had taken up the oars.

"We have to catch them up!" Frank yelled, as he and Douglas heaved at the wheel.

There was another crunch as the Revenclaw ship shoved past them as well.

"No worries," Remus said cheerfully, leaning against the mast pole with the air of an indulgent professor. "They'll probably be meeting the next challenge just about now. It's going to slow them down a bit."

"Little help here," James gasped, as he, Frank and Douglas heaved on the captain's wheel in an effort to turn the ship again. "I think this was a flaw in our transfiguration. They don't make this sound so difficult in books."

Remus wandered over and gripped the wheel. "It's all about technique," he lied cheerfully, then began turning the wheel again with no visible effort. Sirius found this demonstration on his rarely-used werewolf strength disturbingly hot.

"That's amazing!" Frank said, looking at Remus with wide eyes. "I need to read that book of yours. I could have sworn the wheel was just really stiff."

With Remus's help and the liberal use of chocolates and sweets to spur on the first year rowers, it didn't take long before they caught up with the others again, the Hufflepuffs close behind them. The four ships had floated out into a big intersection of corridors and where they were able to move with much more freedom. Most of the corridors were water-free and blocked off with magic. The one leading in the direction of the Great Hall was blocked by a…

"Oh, please tell me you didn't," Alice Richards groaned, moving over to cling to Frank protectively.

The mermaid was definitely nothing like the one in the prefects' bathroom. She was seven foot long for one thing, and muscles moved strongly beneath her skin like those of a dolphin or a shark. Her skin was grey, her hair like tentacles or seaweed, and she had a face that would definitely sink a thousand ships rather than launch them. In one, webbed, long-fingered hand, she gripped at lethal-looking trident.

At the arrival of the Hufflepuff ship, the mermaid smiled in satisfaction, displaying an array of pointed, shark-like teeth. Then she took a deep breath and began to sing.

"Cover your ears, lads!" someone from the Ravenclaw ship roared, and most people were quick enough to do so before the mermaid's spell took hold. Other people weren't so lucky and from every ship, boys were affected. Their eyes glazed over, mouths became slack. Stupid, vacant grins spread across their faces as they sprinted towards the rails to vault over and into the water.

The girls, who appeared unaffected by the song, struggled to hold them back, though a few escaped and splashes rose up beside each of the ships.

It was a fifth year Hufflepuff girl, surprisingly, who thought to target the noise at its source and cast a strong silencing charm at the mermaid. When that didn't work, another girl tried a different one. Soon, glittering magic was flying from all four ships and for a few horrible moments, Sirius – his fingers wedged firmly in his ears – feared that nothing would work.

He wasn't sure who cast the spell that eventually transformed the mermaid's magical song into an asthmatic wheeze. It could have been a combination of different ones, for all he knew.

Hesitantly, the boys on the ships pulled their fingers from their ears. They moved cautiously to the rails and leaned over to peer into the water. There was no sign of the splashing victims of the song.

"What happened to them?" Rebecca whispered. "We saw them jump in. What if grindylows got them? I can't believe you idiots did this!"

"Look," Douglas interrupted. "Just over there."

Everyone looked to where he was pointing, and sure enough, something was rapidly approaching up through the water. It broke the surface in a fountain of spray and kept rising until it hovered at ceiling level. It was quickly followed by a dozen more. Sirius felt himself grinning proudly as their classmates gaped. Every boy who had jumped into the water was now ensconced safely in a little cage similar to the once holding the teachers. They bobbed among the beans of the corridor ceiling looking damp and petulant.

"How do we get them down?" Lily asked.

"They'll be automatically released once the game is over," James told her. "At least that's what I assume the perpetrators of this prank would have planned."

"Drop the act, Potter. Everyone knows it was you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Really, you have no faith in – "

"_It's got Black!"_ There was uproar from the Slytherin ship and Sirius swung round to see the mermaid pinning his frightened brother to the wall of the corridor she was guarding. Regulus looked green with terror. The Slytherins had obviously attempted to skirt round the mermaid while the other Houses were distracted with the caged student and somehow, she had managed to grab Regulus from the deck of the ship. The boy was soaking wet – choking and squirming against the wall. Even from this distance, Sirius could see a line of blood trickling down Regulus's neck where the point of the mermaid's trident broke through his skin.

Sirius panicked. He reached out and grabbed Remus, who had been watching the scene with an expression of horror and yanked him close. "What do we do, Moony? Please – you have to know what to do!"

"I d-don't know!" Remus said wringing his hands. "I had a sort of blasting s-s-spell prepared that would have got her out the way, but it would do some serious damage to R-Regulus if I cast it now."

Nausea washed over Sirius in a thick green wave. "Nothing else will persuade her to let him go?"

"The only thing that will get her to grant a favour to a human is if a human man kisses her," Lily said, looking up from her dark creature textbook which she had retrieved from Sirius after the grindilow bashing.

"Well good! Someone will just have to go over and snog the fish-faced bint." Sirius grabbed the captain's wheel, ready to direct the ship forwards. He couldn't bare the way Regulus's breath was hitching in dry sobs. How could they have thought this was a good idea?

"No!" Lily grabbed his arm. "Legend says if a man kisses a mermaid, he must remain her prisoner for a year and a day beneath the waves. I don't think I have to mention that you're unlikely to survive that."

"Legend?" Sirius scowled. "Screw _legends. _They're just lies wrapped up in pretty packages."

"But there may be some truth in it," James put in. "You can't risk it, mate."

"It's _Regulus_, Prongs. And it's our fault. We should never have brought in a bloody mermaid."

"But…"

"Bugger this." Sirius abandoned his battle with the captain's wheel, and, before anyone could protest, leapt over the side and into the water. It was freezing and he knew he only had a few seconds. As a creaky wooden cage rose up towards him, Sirius cast the now-familiar transfiguration spell. The cage fought to keep its shape for a few seconds, before slowly transforming into a small rowing boat.

He ignored the yells from behind him as he rowed towards the mermaid. They weren't far away and it didn't take long for him to reach her. Her voice was still a wheezing breath and she looked furious. Without moving the trident from Regulus's neck she turned towards Sirius, clawed hand making a grab for him. He kept back.

"Wanna snog?" he asked, grateful that years of hiding his emotions meant his voice didn't shake like he wanted it to.

"Sirius, you stupid git," Regulus wheezed. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He ignored his brother and kept his eyes on the mermaid. "You know – snog? Kiss?" He puckered up his lips and her eyes widened. In a movement too quick for him to register, she had dropped Regulus, launched herself at his rickety boat and dragged him into her arms. He tried to twist his head away as Regulus slipped down into the water and was caught up by a cage, but she gripped his chin in strong webbed fingers and held him still.

Just as her lips were about to touch his, there was a loud _thunk_ and her bulbous, fishy eyes bulged, glazed over, then closed. She collapsed back into the water to reveal Remus, Peter and James perched precariously on a badly-transfigured cage-boat. Remus had Lily's copy of _1001Dark Creatures and Their Habits and Habitats_ poised above his head, ready for a second blow.

Sirius, trying to persuade his heart not to break through his ribcage with its thumping, raised an eyebrow at him.

"You're such a bloody drama queen, Sirius. Don't look at me like that. I didn't _know_ it would work. Nowhere in any book does it say 'How to defeat merpeople: bop them over the head with a large volume on assorted dark creatures'. But I figured that if it worked for the grindylow, it was worth a shot." He didn't need to add that his werewolf strength made the success of his plan much more likely.

"Moony…"

"Oh come on – you didn't think I was going to let slutty squid-breath over there get her claws into you, did you?"

"Out of the way, Gryffindorks!" yelled a voice from above them.

They only just managed to row out of the way in time as the Ravenclaw ship shoved past them and down the corridor the mermaid had been guarding. It was closely followed by the Slytherins, none of whom stopped to check if Regulus – hanging in his cage near the ceiling of the corridor – was okay. Gratitude and camaraderie was something that obviously happened in other people.

Thankfully, Regulus appeared to be okay, because he peered down at the four of them and said, "Well? What are you waiting for? You going to let the _Ravenclaws_ beat us all?"

"You okay?" Sirius had to ask.

"It was just a scratch, you great pouf. Now bugger off."

The Huffleuffs swept past and down the corridor and the Gryffindors came past a few seconds later, four badly-made rope ladders hanging over the edge of the ship.

"Quickly, quickly," Frank said. "Climb aboard so we can catch up." He was apparently really getting into the spirit of the prank and had conjured an eyepatch and tricorn hat from somewhere. His grin wouldn't have looked out of place on a shark.

"Aye aye, cap'n!" James said, saluting as they scrambled up the rope ladder with varying degrees of success. Peter had to be hauled up bodily and then passed on to a group of third years to untangle.

"So," Lily asked with resignation. "What's next?"

"The final challenge," James told here. "We will dazzle you with our brilliance as we take on…the _kraken_."

"The _kraken_? Oh my God, Potter! To think I thought you'd finally grown up. Have you no common sense?"

James blinked at her. "You thought I'd grown up?"

"A _kraken_?"

"It's not a real one," James said hurriedly, stumbling over his words to explain. "The real ones are massive and you'd never fit one in through the doors – not that we would have of course, having matured greatly. Which we have. Matured, I mean. Like good cheese. It's …er… not dangerous. No one will die. Or be hurt. Seriously…haha – Siriusly…get it?… Shutting up now."

It was a good thing, Sirius thought, because with every word James spouted, he hammered one more nail into the dead and rotting corpse that had been his burgeoning relationship with Lily.

…on the other hand, Lily wasn't actually looking that angry. This had to be one of the seven signs of the apocalypse.

"So you swear it's not dangerous?"

"Um…no? No. Of course not. No."

"Hmm." Lily gave him one last dubious look before striding off to where Alice and Frank were standing in the prow of the ship, peering down into the water.

Sirius winced when James grabbed his arm with strong, bony fingers. "Did you see that?" James whispered reverently. peering dreamily at Sirius through his glasses. He looked more than a little stoned. "She thinks I've grown into a handsome, sensitive, mature man. She wants to go out with me! And was I cool and suave or what?"

"Or what," Sirius said. What was he going on about? Had he even been listening to himself? He'd sounded like someone under the effects of a powerful babbling hex.

"Do you think I should ask her out?" James asked, turning to Sirius suddenly. "Right now? While she's softened up?"

"No!" Sirius's answer was echoed by Remus's and Peter's. The two of them had come over, obviously made curious by the besotted expression on James's face.

"Leave her to mull it over for a while, Prongs," Remus advised. "You'd only screw it up horrendously if you went and asked her out now."

James's face fell. Not for long, though. At that moment, they were approaching the large double doors to the Great Hall. The other four ships were already inside, their way to the teacher's cage blocked by a glittering screen of violet magic.

"AHOY, MATEYS!"

The assembled students, who had been waiting in tensely for the next part of the challenge, jumped violently at the deafening greeting. Heads jerked upwards to see the talking sit of armour perched causally on a beam high above them. It was pouring rum from a glass bottle into its empty visor. They could hear it splashing down into the metal belly.

"What's going in?" A Ravenclaw called. "How do we get through this barrier?"

"YOU HAVE TO DEFEAT…THE KRAKEN. ONCE THE BEAST IS DESTROYED, THE BARRIER WILL BREAK."

"And wasn't that one of the trickiest bits of magic we've ever turned our hands to," Remus murmured in Sirius's ear. "It seems such a waste to destroy it."

"Kraken?" The Ravenclaw squeaked.

From far below them in the murky black water that now filled the Great Hall, there was a deep, echoing boom – rather like a giant drum being beaten in a large cave. The water in front of the glittering barrier heaved a little, then grew still. The whole student population was holding its breath, hands curled tightly around wands.

A long silence, then:

"There! Over there!"

A Slytherin second year was pointing down into the water where something massive was slowly rising to the surface.

"It's huge!"

"It's moving quickly!"

"It's swelling!"

"It's…er…is it _orange?_"

"Krakens aren't orange."

James grinned and winked at Lily, who wasn't paying the least bit of attention.

"Merlin's balls!" The Ravenclaw who'd asked how to get past the barrier was now grinning hugely. "It's one of those blasted spider-pumpkins from that Halloween prank."

Then the thing broke the surface of the water, and in spite of the fact the 'Kraken' was round, orange and used to be a pumpkin, dozens of students screamed in shock. Even Sirius felt his eyebrows rise. They had really outdone themselves with this one. The Pumpkin-Kraken was mind-bogglingly huge. It took up a full third of the Great Hall and completely obscured the teachers' cage. Its rapid growth from Jack 'O lantern to dreaded-monster-of-the-deep had displaced a giant wave of water that almost swept the four House ships back out the doors. It was only frantic paddling from the first years on the oars that kept them in place.

The Pumkin-Kraken's grinning face was hideously distorted from its growth and the eyes and mouth leered down like fiery caverns at the watching students. The spider-pumpkins had only had eight scuttling legs. This monstrosity had twenty-three waving orange tentacles lined with glistening orange suckers. In the breathless silence that followed its appearance, the Pumpkin-Kraken reached out one of these tentacles and scooped a terrified second year Hufflepuff girl off the deck of her ship and tossed her into the churning water surrounding it. The Hufflepuffs howled in horror and even some the Slytherins looked worried until a little wooden cage rocketed out the water where the girl had sunk and soared up to hover among the beams of the Great Hall's arching ceiling. The girl, looking wet and petrified, but otherwise unharmed, blinked down at them.

"YOU HAVE TO WORK TOGETHER!" The rather drunken-sounding suit of armour roared above the din. "IF YOU LOSE ALL THE MEMBERS OF YOUR HOUSE BEFORE THE KRAKEN IS DEFEATED, THERE IS NO WAY YOU WILL BE ABLE TO RELEASE THE PROFESSORS-IN-DISTRESS AND WIN THE GRAND PRIZE." The gigantic chest of glittering chocolate money was just visible, resting high in the beams above the Pumpkin-Kraken.

Three more tentacles shot out and scooped students up from the Gryffindor, Slytherin and Ravenclaw ships. The screaming pupils were tossed into the water where they remerged a few seconds, caged, to hover above the action.

"Right, lads and lasses!" Frank yelled, straightening his tricorrn hat and taking a swig from a bottle of something that looked suspiciously like rum. Sirius wondered when he'd managed to find it. Alcohol was notoriously hard to transfigure. "Wands out and aim for the tentacles! We need to hack 'em off."

It was strange to see the different tactics the Houses used. While the giant tentacles swooped down plucking students from the ships one by one, the students rallied and began to fight back.

The Gryffindors – never great ones for planning in the heat of the moment - launched in, wands ablaze, and began to batter the Pumpkin-Kraken with curses and hexes – most of which were not at all effective, and others of which reacted rather oddly when paired together. For some reason, two of the hexes aimed at the creature's face reacted in a bizarre and unexpected way and resulted in a large rose bush sprouting from one fiery, triangular nostril.

The Hufflepuffs had apparently decided that fighting in shifts was the best way to go about it and only had four students on deck at a time. It worked in theory, because the tentacles couldn't grab people who weren't there, but it meant that the ones who were were bigger targets. The best Hufflepuff duelers were taken out in a few minutes.

The Ravenclaws were lined up in neat ranks and appeared to be having great success in synchronizing attacks on individual tentacles. They had already set one on fire, and it burned with lurid green flames for a few seconds before shriveling up and dropping off. The students – of all Houses – cheered. The Ravenclaws had also set up a research team who huddled together behind the duelers paging furiously through textbooks and occasionally yelling suggestions.

It was the Slytherins, though, who surprised everyone. Sirius had predicted that they would either run away, or launch in firing a load of forbidden dark curses that would get them into weeks of detention once the teachers were released. He'd been banking on that outcome in fact. However, it was beginning to become clear as to why there were so many successful Slytherins in the wizarding world in spite of all the bad reputation their House left with them once they graduated.

Three of the nastiest-looking seventh year students took command, bullying the other Slytherins into following their battle plan. The plan itself seemed to involve waiting until the other Houses' showy curses and hexes had distracted the Pumpkin-Kraken, before sneaking in with some rather violent but effective counter-attacks. Much to Sirius's dismay, it was _Snape_ of all people who seemed to have found a curse that worked most effectively against the grabbing tentacles. Ducking and side-stepping out of the way of both his Housemates and the tentacles with surprising skill, Snape aimed and whispered a spell. There was a flash of light and for a moment, Sirius thought it hadn't worked. Then, seemingly in slow motion, the tentacle that had just be reaching out for the greasy-haired Slytherin, toppled into the water with a splash, severed clean away from the rest of the monster.

What followed was one of those strange moment in which even the loudest and most wild and action-packed scenes grows suddenly still. Then the Slytherins caught onto what had just happened and a roar of triumph rose from their ranks. They closed in around Snape, protecting him from being grabbed as he pointed his wand again and again, and one by one the Pumpkin-Krakens tentacles were sheered off, leaving nothing but stumps.

The other Houses knew when they were defeated and turned their tactics to mainly defense as the Slytherins systematically decimated the transfigured pumpkin. When, at last, the final tentacle fell to Snape's wand, a seventh-year Slytherin sent a powerful spell speeding towards the Pumpkin-Kraken's gaping, fiery mouth. With no tentacles left to shield this vulnerable area, the curse went straight inside.

There were a few breathless seconds, then…

_**BOOM!**_

The thing exploded into a thousand pieces, raining partially fired pumpkin shards down on the heads of the watching students. The glittering violet barrier flickered, then disappeared, and the Slytherin ship paraded triumphantly forward, shunting the Ravenclaws out the way, to release the teachers from their cage.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Who'd have thought?" James said gloomily, as the four Marauders waited outside McGonagall's office later that evening. "We're going to be punished so harshly our _grandchildren_ will still be scrubbing cauldrons in their seventh year to pay it off, and it was all so that the Slytherins could win a giant chest of Honeydukes chocolate. I feel betrayed."

"They won fair and square," Remus pointed out. "Though I still don't know what spell Snape was using. Do you think he could have made it up himself?"

"What? Invented a spell all on his own?" Sirius laughed derisively. "You're giving him way to much credit Moony. He's a slimy, stinking, stupid git who couldn't find his own arse without both hands, a compass and a map."

"And yet he had the only spell that really worked properly. Even the ones I had prepared in case it all went wrong were not as good as that one."

"Bullshit over brawns, brains, and blubbering," James said. "Who would have thought it?"

"To be fair the Hufflepuffs weren't the only ones blubbering," said Peter, chewing on his nails as he eyed Professor McGonagall's door. "I swear this is the worst thing we've ever done. We're going to be in so much trouble."

"It's not the worse thing I've ever done," Sirius mumbled, thinking back to the prank that had almost got Snape killed by Moony.

The door to McGonagall's office opened with a click. "Gentlemen," came her deceptively calm voice. "Please do come in."

They exchanged glances, then hesitantly made their way inside. Both Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore stood behind the desk . They made a formidable pair.

"Don't even think about denying you were responsible for this evening's entertainment," Professor McGonagall said in clipped tones. "All it will take is _prior incantatem_ to be cast on your wands and everything will be revealed.

_Ah_, Sirius thought. _Should have seen that one coming._

"It was for fun," James tried. "And no one was hurt. And we arranged for it all to go back to normal afterwards."

"I have a punctured Black brother in the Hospital Wing and an angry caretaker with a filing cabinet full of water who beg to differ."

"Reg was fine," Sirius said, a flash of guilt twinging in his chest. "Madame Pomfrey said it was just a scratch."

"And we didn't mean to forget to shield Filch's office," Peter lied. "It was a complete accident." It was amazing how convincing he could be, Sirius thought. Even _he_ almost believed Peter and he was the one who had actually said 'come on lads, let's get back at Filch while we're at it'.

"Be that as it may," Professor McGonagall said shortly. "The fact still remains that you flooded a large portion of the school with water, locked all the staff in a cage, transfigured valuable antique House tables into ships, and subjected the students of Hogwarts to attacks from a menagerie of dangerous dark creatures. Do you deny this?"

"It wasn't really a menagerie," Sirius tried. "More of a…small holding."

"How _did _you persuade the grindylows and merpeople to go along with this hair-brained scheme?" Dumbledore asked. "I didn't think they could be coerced."

"Grindylows seem to like Moony, for some reason," James supplied. "They cuddle up to him like creepy little puppies or something. We reckon it might be a werewolf thingy. And as for the other…" He grinned. "You'd be amazed at what mermaids will do for a few dozen bags of fizzing wizzbees and the chance to torment a bunch of adolescent boys."

"Fizzing wizzbeees?" Dumbledore shook his head. "Fascinating! And how did you manage to create such extensive chaos when you were only four teenage boys, may I ask?"

"Albus!" Professor McGonagall snapped, "we're supposed to be _punishing_ them."

"We used Borgonius's Potion," James told Dumbledore.

"Really?" The twinkling blue eyes were piercing as they swept over the four of them and Sirius fought not to drop his gaze. "I thought I'd detected the aroma of old socks, but I did not think that a couple of mischievous sixth years could possibly have brewed such a potion. It's Masters Level."

"And from the Restricted Section of the library," Professor McGonagall pointed out meaningfully.

"We had a few false starts," Sirius admitted, pretending not to hear her. "Our room smelled so bad for a while that Remus had to sleep in the bathroom. Sensitive nose and whatnot."

"Albus!"

Dumbledore blinked and smiled. "Yes. Right, boys. You have to have known you would be punished rather severely for this. You will clean and dry Argos Filch's office, returning it to its previous state by tomorrow evening. You will also receive detention every night until the Christmas holidays…"

The boys exchanged grins. They were only a week away.

"…and will be tutoring first years in Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts one evening a week, every week, for the rest of the year."

They gaped in horror. "_What_?" James shook his head rapidly. "No, sir! Can't you just get us to scrub out the Owlry or something? Really – I am terrible with firsties. I'll put them off magic for life."

"They look up to you boys," Professor McGonagall put in. "Many of them idolize you. It is your duty to prove to them that you're not just a bunch of hooligans out to destroy the school, but that you have a sense of loyalty and hard work, and that you consider doing well academically a priority."

"But we don't!" Sirius protested.

"Then you'd better start, Mr. Black. Your first tutoring session is tomorrow at four 'o clock. I trust that putting you in the position of teacher will give you a greater sense of responsibility. You will need to speak regularly to teachers to find out what progress the first years are making so your sessions will be relevant. You may go now."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

It was only much later, when the Marauders trudged up to the dorm room muttering about cruel and unusual punishments, that Sirius began to realise that something was wrong with Remus. The boy was trailing behind the rest of them, barely contributing to the conversation, with a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow. The excitement f the prank was long over and Remus volunteered to help first years all the time, so Sirius knew it couldn't be nerves at the thought of tutoring.

While they prepared for bed, Sirius kept a subtle watch on Remus, waiting for him to slip up and give away what was bothering him. Knowing the werewolf for as long as he had, he knew he would not get any straight answers from asking outright.

Remus grabbed his pajamas, murmured a quiet goodnight to the other Marauders, then retreated behind his curtain. Sirius frowned as they closed and looked up to catch James's eye.

_Something's wrong with Moony_, James mouthed in a ridiculously exaggerated way.

_I know, you git_. Sirius mouthed back.

Tired of trying the subtle approach (something he'd never had much time for anyway), Sirius stood up, walked over to Remus's bed, and slipped behind the curtains without waiting for an invitation.

Remus's head jerked up in shock, the volumous nightshirt he was wearing falling back to cover his stomach and thighs before Sirius could see what he was doing. The small pot in Remus's hand and the strong scent of burn-salve, though, immediately gave him away.

"You touched silver?"

Remus looked away, lips pursed. The hand holding the pot of salve was shaking in what Sirius assumed was pain.

Then Sirius remembered. "That damn pudding dish!" he said, dropping to his knees beside Remus and reaching out to lift the hem of his nightshirt.

Remus's hand stopped him. "Please, Pads. I'm fine."

"Rubbish. Let me look."

Remus hesitated, then shifted his hand away, allowing Sirius to lift the shirt. On his usually pale thighs, imprinted in inflamed and seeping burn blisters, was the oval outline of the silver dish that had fallen into Remus's lap earlier that evening. It had only just missed another very vital part of Remus's anatomy. .

"Merlin, Moony." Sirius stared at the blisters, unable to look away. "This all happened through your trousers?"

"It's the magic the house elves use to make the food appear and keep the food warm and stuff." Remus fiddled with the lid of the salve jar. "It really…enhances the effects of the silver. That's why they use silver, actually. It acts as a sort of magnifying glass for house elf magic. There's nothing much we can do if we want to eat. You know I usually avoid touching the serving dishes."

"I didn't realise they'd do this to you!"

"I suspected. My fingers feel all tingly when they're near them. Really though, Sirius. It'll be fine. Look – the salve's working already."

Sure enough, the open blisters that had been rubbed raw by Remus's clothing all day were beginning to close over. The others were becoming less inflamed.

"You should have said something," Sirius said, placing a gentle hand on Remus's thigh, just beside the burn.

"Why? The prank had started. What could you've done?"

"I could have, you know, watched out for you. Checked you were holding up okay."

Remus laughed. "You do that anyway, love."

"Still…I'm going to find a way for the house elves to use something other than silver to magnify their magic. We can't have this happening again."

"That's not possible."

"Possible? Pfft!" Sirius waved his hand airily. "Anything is possible for a Marauder."

And it was, he thought. They had become animagus, they'd orchestrated the most elaborate prank in the history of Hogwarts, they'd tamed a werewolf, they'd survived Death Eater attacks. They could do anything. He looked at Remus who was spreading more salve on his burn, head bowed and face intent. Sirius would never dream of pointing it out, but he could see a few silver threads in Remus's tawny mane – just another sign of the stresses the other boy dealt with every day in his quiet, dignified way. Sirius's chest actually hurt for a moment with the force of the protectiveness that rose within it.

"I will find a way."


	77. A Thread of Silver

**A/N:**

**So, as you can see, I have not abandoned this fic, as promised. I'm afraid that my job keeps me from writing as often as I used to, but I'll keep at it as long as you can all be patient with me.**

**WARNING: This chapter has NOT been beta'd. I sent it to my beta a few days ago and haven't heard back from her (she may have given up waiting for me to finally update. I wouldn't blame her. It's been an unforgivably long time.). So I'm posting it raw and probably full of errors, and will come back and edit it once I get in contact with her again. I thought it was more than time for me to reward your patience and all those wonderful reviews you have kept encouraging me with. I assure you I have read them all. **

**Much love to readers, reviewers and lurkers. I always welcome comments!**

**Moonsign**

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**REMUS:**

The first few days back home for the Christmas holidays were rather awkward for Remus's family. Over the course of the last year, secret after secret had been uncovered, like plasters being torn off healing wounds – Remus's sexuality and relationship with Sirius, his suspicions about where his adoptive parents' money had been going, Neil and Angela's lies about why they were travelling around Europe and where their money was really going, suspicions on both sides about wavering loyalties in the burgeoning war.

And while the three of them were still reeling with force of the revelations – _Bam!_ Neil lost his legs and Angela was responsible for killing the man who did it.

The little family was still relatively new, and none of its members really knew how to deal with the issues or with one another. They fell back on false cheerfulness and small talk and the longer it went on, the more Remus longed for those first few holidays he'd had with the Anders when everything had seemed brilliant and exciting and blossoming with possibility.

Five days into the Christmas holidays and Remus had had enough. He could not sit through another family dinner that consisted of polite compliments on Angela's cooking and requests to pass the salt while everyone sturdily avoided mentioning the fact that the dining chair that used to reside in Neil's place had been stored in the shed so his new hovering chair could take its place.

Remus watched as Angela began clearing the table for the fourth day running without complaint and remembered the good-natured arguments she and Neil used to have about whose turn it was. They had usually ended up chasing one another round the kitchen with wet tea-towels spinning above their heads like lassoes. As Angela disappeared into the kitchen again, He came to a decision. It was a risky one, but he couldn't bear another whole holiday like this and he was sick to death of all the awkwardness.

"I bet," Remus said to Neil, just managing to keep a grip on his stutter, "that I could come up with more 'no legs' jokes than you can come up with 'werewolf' jokes by the end of the holiday.

A breathless, sucking silence fell between them and Neil turned to look at him wide-eyed. For a few seconds, Remus thought he's made a horrible mistake and his mind whirled as he tried to think of a way to backtrack. Then Neil threw back his head and roared with laughter.

It hadn't been funny, Remus thought. At least, not _that_ funny, but the abrupt release of tension set them both off in teary, throat-aching guffaws.

"You're on, Lupin," Neil said, minutes later as he directed his hovering chair round the edge of the table to hammer cheerfully on Remus's back. "And I even know of a handy spell to help us keep score."

He zipped with much more speed and enthusiasm than normal through to the lounge where he located a large sheet of parchment that he attached to the wall with a quick charm. Then he used his wand to create two columns labeled 'Remus' and 'Neil' and cast another spell on it.

"Will that work?" Remus asked, intrigued.

"How do you stop a werewolf howling in the back of the car?"

Remus blinked. "What? How?"

"Put him in the front." Neil fell about laughing as there was a light tinging soundand a shiny red 1 appeared under his name.

"Hey!" Remus said indignantly. "You should get minus points for lame jokes."

"You're only jealous because I'm taking an early lead."

"I am not."

"You are too." Neil's face looked in danger of splitting in half he was grinning so widely. He did a sort of clumsy mid-air wheely with his hovering chair. "Hm…might need to practice that one. Hey, Remus?"

Remus felt his own grin fade a little at the solemn note in Neil's voice. "Yeah?"

"Thanks, lad."

Remus smiled at him fondly. "It just seemed a shame to have all those jokes go to waste. Very un-Maraudery of me."

"Want a drink to celebrate?" Neil asked, hovering over to their very meager drinks cabinet.

"Shouldn't you be helping Angela with the dishes? I swear it's your turn."

"Shut up or no firewhiskey for you."

"I'd prefer a butterbeer," Remus said, coming over to peer in the cabinet. "And _you_ shouldn't have anything."

Neil blinked. "Why not?"

"Because you're already completely legless."

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Competition was fierce and neither Remus nor Neil were above using underhand means in an effort to try and win. Neil had already confiscated the 'Random Joke Generator – Jokes On every Subject!' Sirius had send Remus from Zonko's once he heard about the challenge, and Remus had banned Neil from walking up to strangers and saying "Hey! Know any good jokes about dark creatures?"

Angela, obviously becoming fed up by the endless competition between her husband and son, and desperate to find a different distraction for them, invited the other Marauders over to stay with them for the last week and a half of the holiday before the start of the new term. By the time Sirius, James and Peter stepped through the living room floo, Neil was well in the lead of the competition.

"I'm ashamed of you, Moony," James said, eyes scanning the score chart. "You're really letting the side down."

"I tried," Remus protested, flinging himself down on the sofa beside Sirius. "But there's only so many ways you can joke about someone being legless. I was reduced to 'the-man-with-a-wooden-leg-named-Smith' joke yesterday which was all whole new low. I couldn't even bring myself to complain when it only earned me half a point. It's really not fair. Do you _know_ how many werewolf jokes there apparently are?"

"Oh yes," the other three said immediately.

"You would not _believe_ the pressure the three of us have been under trying to keep ourselves from telling them over the years," Sirius said fervently.

"What do you do if your pet werewolf gets sick?" James put in. "Count your friends. It may be somebody he ate."

"How do you make a werewolf stew?" Sirius said. "Keep him waiting for two hours."

"What do you get if you cross a witch and a werewolf?" Peter joined in. "A mad dog that chases aeroplanes. Though I have to admit that one is less funny in the wizarding world when you have to explain what an aeroplane is before you begin."

"What do you get if you cross a werewolf with a vampire?" James was clearly nowhere near the end of his repertoire. Remus wondered, with a sort of disturbed fascination, how long he'd been storing them up. "A fur coat that fangs round your neck. How many werewolves does it take to change a –"

"Okay, okay," Remus said, holding up his hands in defeat. "I can't believe I set myself up for this."

"You know we love you really," Sirius said, grinning.

"You're not really upset, are you, Moony?" Peter asked, looking worried.

Remus smiled at him. "Of course not. I'm really glad you guys are here."

It was nice having them there, though odd at the same time. The three of them looked so incongruous sitting in the Anders' tiny, threadbare lounge with its aging second-hand furniture and balding sofas. He wondered what it must seem like to James and Sirius who had both grown up in rich aristocratic families living in huge, magical homes.

"I'm afraid it's going to be a bit cramped here," he ventured. "We don't have a lot of –"

"Moony," James interrupted. "If we'd wanted rich friends, we would have befriended Lucius Malfoy. But since I, personally, prefer brains and a sense of humour over a loaded bastard with the soul of a flobberworm and the imagination of a jelly slug, I think we'll be sticking with you."

There was really not much he could say to that.

Peter had brought the Muggle sleeping bags they had used when they had all stayed at his house the previous year. They set them up, that evening, in Remus's room, having to pack them close together so the three on the floor would wedged side by side like pre-packed sausage rolls.

"Either Sirius or I have to sleep on the bed, I'm afraid," Remus mumbled, as the four of them tried maneuver themselves through their normal nighttime routine in a room that was about an fifth of the size of their Gryffindor dorm room. "Parents' orders."

There was a pause in the rustling of the sleeping bags and Remus looked up to see them all staring at him. James, who had been in the middle of putting on his pyjama bottoms, wobbled on one leg for a few seconds, then toppled over.

"What?" Peter said, scratching his nose, "they think you're in danger of uncontrollable shagging if you sleep next to one another? 'Cos I'm telling you, even if you wanted to – which I bloody hope you wouldn't with Prongs and me right here – there is _not_ enough maneuvering space in here. We're already going to have to set up a schedule for who gets to breath when, because once three of us are wedged down there, if we all breathe in at once, one of us is going to up popping out again like a champagne cork."

Remus flushed. "I think it's the principle of the thing."

"They do know we share a dorm room, right?" Sirius asked.

Remus shrugged helplessly.

"Well," Sirius said. "I suppose we'd better do as they say. I hope you've noticed I've been on my best behaviour so far, Moony. Your parents should be well impressed with me."

"They would be, I'm sure, if they hadn't known you for six years, and you hadn't spiked Neil's pumpkin juice with that whizz-popper[1] potion in first year."

"It was that one time!" Sirius looked insulted. "Before we knew he was cool."

"No matter the reason, Pads, I don't think you're going to fool them at this point. Don't worry about it. They like you. Even if you have corrupted their poor innocent son."

"Oh, please," James said. "You were far from innocent long before we got to you. You take the bed, Moony. We don't mind bunking down on the floor and you're going to be moon-sore over the next few days. Though things would be a tad easier if Wormtail hadn't been indulging his immense appetite quite so much over the Christmas season."

"Hey!"

Smiling, Remus finished pulling on his pyjamas and climbed into bed, relaxing as he listened to James and Sirius continuing to rib Peter as the three of them wriggled into their sleeping bags and turned off the light.

"Well this is cozy," James said, voice rather muffled. "Merlin, you're bony, Padfoot. Even through a sleeping bag. I have no idea how Moony puts up with you in his bed."

"He can't complain," Sirius told him. "He has knees like ice-picks and elbows like sharpened pencils."

"Someone hit him for me," Remus said with a yawn. James obliged and there was a muffled thump and a grunt of pain.

A long silence fell, broken only by the rustling of shifting sleeping bags. Then Sirius's said, "Moony? You really holding in there okay?"

Remus sat up and squinted down at the shadowy pile of Marauders on his bedroom floor. "'Course I am. It's been fine here. Especially since the challenge. I mean, it's not perfect, but it's fine. It's going to be more difficult after the holidays when all Neil's mates go back to field work and he's benched again. He doesn't take kindly to being out of action. I don't envy Angela living with him."

"Oh, don't worry about Angela," Peter's voice said fervently. "She'll be fine. She's a formidable woman."

There was a short horrified pause before Remus said, "_Please_ tell me you don't fancy my mother, Pete."

"_Fancy_ her?" Peter gave a wheezy sort of laugh. "I'm bloody terrified of her. The woman strangled a man to _death_ with a _scarf_."

"A magic scarf," James pointed out.

"The point still stands," Peter said with an audible shudder. "When she frowned at me for spilling that ketchup on the carpet earlier, my balls leapt right up into my body. I swear."

Sirius snorted. "In the name of Godric, Wormtail, where were you when the spines were handed out?"

"If they were being handed out by Angela, he was probably on the other end of the country underneath my invisibility cloak, desperately wishing he hadn't had skived off that lesson we had on warding charms," James said, sounding amused. "Don't worry, Wormy. We'll protect you."

"I bet that's what that Death Eater's mates said to him as well," Peter said darkly, "right before he kicked the bucket in a grand chintzy-silk-related death scene."

"I resent the implication we'd be unable to protect you," James said.

"I resent the implication that Angela would be seen dead in silk chintz," Remus added.

There was a pointed silence from the other Marauders.

"What? If you had been subjected to as many scarf-related lectures as I have over the past few years, you'd also be vicariously horrified by such a fashion faux pas."

"Yeah, I'd keep that to myself if I was you, Moony," Sirius told him. "Comments like that give me the irresistible urge to beat someone up and steal their pocket money, and since I could never do that to you, poor ol' Wormtail would be the once experiencing the wrath of Padfoot."

"Hey! Why me?"

Sirius shrugged. "Because Prongs is my brother-not-from-a-harpy-mother and Moony is hot."

"And could snap you in half with his little finger," James added.

"Yeah, that too."

"I need to find new friends," said Peter, voice mournful.

"No one else would have you, mate," Sirius said cheerfully. "You're stuck with gay werewolf, the disowned Back and the puffy-haired speccy git over here."

"You're just as gay as me," Remus protested.

"Chintz scarves, Moony? 'Fashion faux pas'?"

"Shut up."

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When Remus woke up the next morning he was alone in the bedroom. He stretched slowly, feeling the first twinges of moon-pain in his limbs that signaled the full moon's arrival in a couple of days. That was probably why the others had left him to sleep, and why he hadn't woken up when they left. He slept fitfully, but deeply around this time.

He rolled out of bed and wandered through to the living room in his pyjamas, rather unnerved by the lack of noise. Quiet Marauders usually signaled impending trouble. He needn't have worried, however, because he found the other three sitting with Neil around the dining table in the little living room, poring over a large, ancient-looking book.

"What's going on?" he asked, staring at them. "Are you lot actually voluntarily reading a book?"

They swung around quickly, surprised by his presence.

"It's nothing, Moony," James said, while Peter attempted to subtly close the book.

Remus stood there, arms crossed, eyebrow raised.

"We don't want to get your hopes up…_what?_" Sirius held up his hands defensively when the others rounded on him. "You know I have no self control when it comes to Moony's eyebrow expressions."

"You can't _not_ tell me now," Remus said, walking over to peer down at the massive tome on the table. The others moved reluctantly aside, still shooting daggers at Sirius. "_The Magicke of the Howse Elves_ – huh?"

"I 'borrowed' it from my Dad's library," James told time. "And let me tell you that was no mean feat. You try stuffing a thing that size up your robes, and tell me it's just a matter of 'nicking one little book'." He scowled at Peter who shifted in his seat and tried not to look scared by the thought of the Wrath of Prongs.

"But…why?" Remus felt as though he was trailing a long way behind current events.

"To help with the silver," Sirius said, smiling at him.

Remus flushed and touched his hand to his hair. He'd hoped those traitorous threads of silver had gone unnoticed by his friends who usually only picked up on anything new if it was coated in chocolate, flew a broomstick or promised to caused mayhem in the Slytherin common room. He should have remembered that Sirius always made an exception for him.

Sirius's expression changed from proud to dawning horror as he hastened to add, "Oh, Moony- not that! The silver platters the house elves serve our food on. We were trying to see if another metal would work as well and…"

His voice trailed off and Remus tried to smile. It was clear that, although Sirius _hadn't_ been talking about his hair, he _had_ noticed it.

"What's going on?" Peter said, eyes flicking from tense face to tense face.

"Nothing, Pete," Remus said quickly, glad that at least one of his friends maintained traditional adolescent blindness. It was clear from James's awkward expressions that he had noticed the silver threads as well – or possibly had them pointed out to him by Sirius. "I'm just going to…um…get dressed." He gestured down at his pyjamas and backed out of the room as quickly as he could.

Back in his own room, he studied his reflection in the little mirror hanging above his chest of drawers. He dipped his chin to see the top of his head and winced at the sight of silver-grey lacing through tawny brown. It wasn't a lot, but it was definitely more obvious than it had been even a few months ago. He peered closer, wondering how long it would be before he started developing wrinkles. Did werewolves age loads faster than humans? Why had no one told him? Would he be living in an eighty-year-old's body by the time he hit twenty-five? Oh God! Sirius would still be beautiful and everyone would think Remus was some kind of sick old pervert for being with him. If Sirius even _wanted_ to still be with him when he was wrinkly and ugly and probably incontinent.

"Moony?"

He jumped back from the mirror, tripped over a sleeping bag and landed on the floor, cursing himself for not sensing Sirius sooner. The other boy came over and, instead of offering him a hand up, sat down beside him. Remus avoided his gaze until Sirius raised his hand to thread through his hair. Then he jerked away.

"_Don't,_ Padfoot."

"Why?"

Remus pursed his lips and Sirius sighed. "There's nothing wrong with a little genteel silver in a person's hair."

"Yeah – if that p-person's fifty years old."

"Nonsense. I like it."

"Just… don't."

Sirius's expression crunched up in frustration. "I don't get why it's a problem. So what if you're going a bit grey?"

"I'm just shy of seventeen, not s-s-seventy! If I look like this n-now, what am I going to look like by the t-t-time I'm twenty? Or th-thirty?" Remus felt his own frustration welling up inside him at the re-emergence of the damn stutter.

"You'll be a bit greyer. So what?"

"I'm grey now. What'll it be next? I'll be old and wrinkly and g-gross."

"What? No you won't! Remus, just because your hair is going silver doesn't mean you're going to shrivel up and get old. Is that what you think?"

"Why should I not? Werewolves tend to have a sh-sh-shortened life span."

"Because they're hunted to death, or tear themselves apart at the full moon, or commit suicide from loneliness or whatever. Not because of old age."

Remus shook his head, unwilling to believe it.

"I swear, Moony. Look at me." Sirius reached out to cup his cheek and turn his face up to meet his eyes. "One of my cousins, Cepheus, worked in Romania. When I was about eight or nine, I think, he came round to visit and his hair was completely white. He was only in his mid-twenties at the time, and his face was still young, but his hair had completely changed colour. Turned out that a year before he'd been trapped in the back of a nesting Dragon's cave for three weeks with no way to escape. He would have been fried to a crisp if the mother dragon had spotted him. He was eventually found by other dragon keepers on the reserve, and by the time they got to him, his hair was already growing white from the stress. It was still black at the ends, but it never grew black after that. By the time he got to us, it was completely white all over. It was stress that did it, Moony. It bleaches hair. It's a wonder you aren't completely white already, the amount of stress you're under every month."

Remus felt something deep inside his chest unwind and relax for the first time since he'd noticed his first grey hair. "I w-won't go wrinkly?"

"Nope. You're gonna be a handsome stud for many years yet."

Remus dipped his chin, blinking rapidly to clear his welling eyes. Sirius pretended not to notice.

"If it really upsets you, I still have some of that potion we used on the Slytherin Quidditch team last month."

"That dyed their hair pink!"

"You could pull off pink hair, Moony."

"If I can pull of pink, I can most certainly pull off grey."

"'Course you can. You can use it as a prop for that kindly professory gentleman persona you've been working on since you were, like, eleven."

Remus flushed. "It's not just a persona."

"Not anymore, maybe." Sirius smoothed his hands over Remus's classic-Moony-style tartan pyjama top. "It's been so long it's become a big part of who you are. But don't think I don't know you consciously decided to make it that way, or than I don't know the reason why. And don't think that there will ever be a point when I look at you and that's the only thing about you that I see."

"Well, don't think I don't see behind your bad-boy, prank-fuelled, devil-may-care persona either," Remus said, embarrassed.

Sirius grinned. "Oh, I know you do. We're two of a kind, Moony."

"Yes. We must just make sure that neither of us lose ourselves so totally those personas become all of who we are."

Sirius frowned, blinked, then blurred into Padfoot, the hand resting on Remus's lap becoming a paw.

"Got too touchy-feely for you, did it, you great mutt?"

Padfoot's tail wagged and a large pink tongue lolled out to lick a wet stripe up the right side of Remus's neck.

"Eew – get off! Yuck."

Sirius blurred back into his human form, then licked another long, slow stripe up the left side of Remus's neck with his human tongue. "Still gross?"

"Yes," Remus said stubbornly, although the tremor in his voice betrayed him.

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"Gold," Peter announced once Remus was dressed and he and Sirius arrived at the breakfast table.

"You what?" Sirius sat down beside Remus and began piling his plate high with toast.

"Neil found it in James's book," the chubby boy elaborated. He nodded to Neil who appeared to be engrossed in _The Daily Prophet_, though Remus knew, from experience, was actually listening intently to the conversation. "Gold works just as well as a…what was it?"

"Conduit," James supplied, slopping large amounts of jam onto his toast.

"Yeah, a conduit for house elf magic."

"Gold?" Remus felt his heart sinking rapidly. "We need a whole dinner service made from solid gold?"

"Not solid gold," James told him, mouth full. "The magic only really need a thin layer of the metal to work. Gold-plated would be okay."

"Still," Remus said. "A whole gold-plated dinner service – enough for every table in the Great Hall…that's going to cost a packet."

"We'll think of something," Sirius said stubbornly. "A fund-raiser or something."

"And just how would you justify an event to raise funds for a gold dinner service at Hogwarts?" Remus asked. "People would think you'd finally succumbed to the Black family madness. And what would you do, anyway?"

"I dunno," Sirius shrugged and looked at James. "How about – donate one gold gravy boat per person to see Wormtail being given a patriotic wedgie?"

"Hey!" Peter sat up indignantly. "Why me?"

"He's just messing with you, mate," James assured him. "Besides, how would giving Wormtail a wedgie be patriotic?"

"We'd hoist him up the Gryffindor flagpole by his 'I heart Honeydukes' underpants."

"I must protest," Remus said, "on the grounds that this is the most awful plan since Wendy 'Where-Have-My-Legs-Gone' Wibbler sauntered up to a suspiciously hairy man at the full moon, while wearing a mini skirt and said, 'Want some of this, big boy?'"

There were two soft tinging sounds from the lounge as points appeared on the chart and Remus clapped a hand over his mouth. Neil looked up from the paper and laughed. "A double wammy, Remus. Werewolves and no legs. You do realised you just scored an own goal?"

Remus groaned. "It's become a habit. I'm going to have to watch my mouth when we get back to school."

He expected the other Mauaders to laugh, but when he looked at them, they were just staring at him with amazed expressions on their faces.

"What?"

"I don't think I've ever heard you joke about lycanthropy like that before," James said.

Remus found himself smiling. "Well, I've been bombarded with them all Christmas. I guess it just rubbed off."

"Does this mean we're allowed to make werewolf jokes all the time now?" Peter asked. "Only I swear that bottling them up sometimes makes me constipated."

James shoved him and he fell off his chair. "Patriotic wedgie?" he said to Sirius.

"Anytime you like. This one's on the house. No gravy boat required."

Peter gave an incredibly rodent-like squeak and dashed towards the lounge, James and Sirius shoving their chairs back to run after him.

"What was that about?" Neil asked, bemused.

Remus shrugged. "James and Sirius are a little over-protective of me sometimes."

"They're good lads," Neil said, as there was a petrified squeak, a loud _oomph!_ that sounded like someone had been landed on, and then a strangled 'Ah! Ah! I'm sorry – stop!' from the lounge.

"Yes," Remus agreed, buttering his toast. "They really are."

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The rest of the Christmas holidays passed as normally as anything involving all four Marauders ever did. Remus was locked away for the full moon in the old coal bunker where, due to the fact the Marauders couldn't reveal their animal selves, Moony dished out some fairly severe injuries. The only thing he could be grateful for what the fact that he recovered his mind fairly quickly once his post-moon self realized Sirius was there. The other Marauders spent the full moon night awake in Remus's room coming up with increasingly ridiculous ways in which they could raise money for a golden dinner service for Hogwarts.

They exchanged presents late as the Marauders had arrived after Christmas day. Remus got chocolate from Peter, a booby-trap charm to protect the contents of his trunk from James and a hideously ugly chunky golden bracelet Remus from Sirius.

"Er…thanks, Padfoot."

"I know it's vile," Sirius said cheerfully, "but it's solid gold and used to belong to my Great Uncle Orpheus. I thought we could melt it down to make a gravy boat or something…you know…since Wormtail was such a spoilsport about the patriotic wedgie idea and all. It's a good thing it was still lurking in the bottom of my trunk."

"It's _solid gold_?" Neil gaped. "You can't just give that to Remus. It must be worth a fortune!"

Sirius shrugged. "We were using it last year as a handle for the chain in the Gryffindor boys' toilet. The old one broke off after that unfortunate incident with the dung bomb, the exploding snap cards and the tin of dead flobber worms. I reckon this is a better use for it."

"You were using a priceless gold bracelet to prop up your faulty plumbing?" Angela's already large eyes were practically bulbous.

"Just until it could be fixed," James assured her.

"And Great Uncle Orpheus killed my Great Aunt Callista by cursing the toilet so chewed her her up and spat her head out," Sirius added. "It seemed fitting in a way. He was a nasty piece of work."

"Why did he kill her?" Peter asked, in spite of the fact that generations of Blacks should have provided him with plenty of evidence to indicate that there never really needed to be a good reason.

"He found out she had a female lover in her youth," Sirius said shortly.

There was an awkward silence before Sirius smile brightly and gestured towards the bracelet again. "That's why I reckon it's particularly fitting to be giving it to Moony as a gift. I can almost _hear_ him turning in his grave."

"Well," Angela said, reaching over to place her hand on Sirius's arm, "that's very kind of you, Sirius."

Sirius glanced down at her hand with a fleeting expression of surprised wonder, before he recovered himself and his usual wicked grin took over. "Well, you know me. Anything to disrupt the eternal rest of my deplorable ancestors."

Remus knew from the expression on Angela's face that Sirius had now joined the list of people-she-would-would-strangle-someone-with-sapient-scarf-to-protect. It was strangely comforting.

They were only a day away from their return to Hogwarts when the real world rather rudely intruded on their lives again. Neil, much to his disgruntlement, had finally come to the end of his convalescence and, for the past few days, had been receiving four to five owls a day loaded down with paperwork from the Department of Law Enforcement at the Ministry. Now that he was no longer a field auror, he was acting as a dumping ground for the massive backlog of paperwork the DLE were being forced to deal with since the rise of Voldemort.

The Mauaders were trapped in the house that day as rain hammered grey, leaden and unceasing on the roof of the house. They had been reduced to playing 'I Spy' after the exploding snap cards had been confiscated by Angela after the third small fire on the living room rug. The rug was so worn that _'reparo' _barely worked on it anymore and they were running out of furniture they could move to cover the marks.

"I spy with my little eye," Peter said, from where he lay in front of the fire, "something beginning with a 'd' and an 'n'."

"Dumb nut," Sirius said, knocking his knuckles against Peter's head.

"Dorky nuisance." James was also clearly bored of the game.

"Doorknob," Remus said, having uncovered an incredibly useless talent for seeing through Peter's unintentionally cryptic clues. "And for future reference: doorknob is all one word and 'knob' begins with a 'k'."

"I don't know how you do that, Moony." James shook his head admiringly. "You should be a professor one day. You'd be brilliant at figuring out where kids go wrong when no one else can."

"Like they'd ever let a werewolf teach children," Remus said, flexing his arm which was still recovering from the damage at the full moon.

"Dumbledore might," Sirius pointed out, "if he was still headmaster in a few years time."

"Old Dumbles will be headmaster forever," said James. "He'll be handing out detention to our great grandchildren one day."

"Mordred and Morgana…" Neil was hunched over his paperwork at the dining room table and his voice had been barely above a breath, but the tone of it struck them all silent.

"What is it?" Remus sat up, an anxious flutter rising in his chest.

Neil looked up and met his gaze with wide eyes. "You don't go _anywhere_ on your own, Remus. Not anywhere."

"What? Why? What's going on?"

Closing his eyes, Neil rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Werewolf kidnappings. It's all here, but it kept getting shoved to the bottom of the pile because – let's face it – no one cares about what happens to werewolves." He shook his head. "I would have missed it myself, except I'm always hyper aware of anything to do with werewolves."

"Neil." Remus stood up, along with the other Marauders and moved to crowd around the dining table. "Please just explain this slowly and from the beginning." Sirius sat close to him, tense shoulder pressing up against his own.

"I shouldn't be sharing this with anyone," Neil said, "especially with a bunch of school boys. Still - I know I can trust you. And I think it's important that you realize the severity of all this." He shuffled through the papers on the table, lining up a number of untidy piles in front of them. "These are complaints and reports from families of werewolves who have gone missing. Many of them have later been found to be in Voldemort's service. The Ministry dismissed the reports saying that, being dark creatures, the werewolves must have chosen to join him. However, from what these reports say, most of these werewolves are from reputable backgrounds, with families who obey the law, and who have had no problems with the Ministry before. From what I can see, the only thing they all have in common is that, for one reason or another, their lycanthropy has been logged with the Ministry at some point."

James frowned. "Why would a werewolf _register_ themselves with the Ministry? They're just setting themselves up as targets."

Neil flicked through the papers on another pile. "Loads of reasons. Some were taken to St. Mungo's and discovered, some tried to apply for apparition licenses or to adopt children or to start businesses. Obviously, as soon as they were found out, their requests were denied and the Ministry kept a record of them with the Magical Creatures Department."

"Merlin," Sirius murmured. "Someone in the Ministry leaked the list, didn't they?"

Neil flicked him a grim smile. "You always were a bright one. Yes. It looks like someone leaked the list the Death Eaters who are now targeting these individuals and pressing them into Voldemort's service. Since most of them come from rather accepting families, I'm guessing they're being blackmailed through threats on their loved ones. We knew before that Voldemort was trying to get werewolves into his service. He's obviously just discovered an easy way to do it. And that's not everything…" He looked apologetically at Remus.

"What?" Remus asked, stomach rolling sickly. "What else could there possibly be?"

"It looks like Greyback's leading the kidnappings. A man matching his description was spotted by a number witnesses in these families prior to the werewolf in question disappearing. A few of them were even approached by him with Voldemort's false promises."

"G-Greyback," Remus whispered.

"He knows about Remus," Sirius said, voice strangled. "He _sired_ Remus. And he has a real vendetta against him. We know that from before. Do you think that's what he was trying to do at that bookshop when he and those two Death Eaters attacked? Kidnap Moony?"

"Undoubtedly," said Neil. "You're in real danger, son. And even if I present these findings to the Ministry, I doubt they're going to do anything. They're being run ragged protecting Muggle families from attack and – "

" – who cares about werewolves?" Remus finished dully.

"We do, Moony," Sirius said, taking his hand and gripping it hard.

"We won't let anything happen to you," Peter added, looking terrified, but determined at the same time.

James nodded, eyes hard.

"You'll be safest at Hogwarts," Neil said, though his hands visibly shook as he gathered up the paperwork. "But you must swear not to go anywhere on your own. Especially not around Hogsmeade.

"I won't," Remus said. "I swear." And he had no intention of breaking that promise.

But the holiday atmosphere had been ruined and Remus felt as though the last vestiges of his childhood were slipping through his fingers as well.

[1] Anyone read Roald Dahl's the BFG? I imagine this spell would appeal to an eleven-year-old boy's sense of humour.


	78. Following the Path of Scars

**Disclaimer: Nope. I've still not morphed into JK Rowling. I live in hope.**

**Warning: A bit of a (fairly mild) sex scene towards the end for those of you who are worried about that sort of thing. Although if you've got this far I can't see that you can really be **_**that**_** squeamish about slash.**

**Warning number 2: This is unbeta'd. I'll send it to my beta, and will come back to edit it afterwards, but I thought you'd all be glad to have it sooner rather than later. If you notice any glaring mistakes, please feel free to point them out. **

**Author's note: I know! It's been an unforgivable long time and most of you have given up hope that I'll ever update. I did promise that I'll not stop writing this story though, even if it takes me half a year to update! I offer this chapter in honour of the Queen's Jubilee, though I fear she probably wouldn't be that impressed by it (unless she is a closet puppy-love fan, of course). **

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The atmosphere at platform nine and three-quarters was completely different to how it usually was at the beginning of term. A recent spate of attacks on Muggles and Muggle-borns (as well as on werewolves – though no one else seemed particularly bothered by those) seemed to have sucked the remnants of Christmas spirit from the January air, and students climbed aboard the train without the usual rough-and-tumble excitement. Even Sirius and James didn't feel like setting off dungbombs under the Slytherin prefects' seats as they usually did.

"No one can deny it anymore," James said, as the four Marauders settled themselves into one of the carriages. "Even pureblood families who've been pretending it's not happening. Especially after the O'Brien murders."

Sirius nodded. Alfred O'Brien was a brilliant half-blood wizard who owned the biggest chain of apothecaries in Britain. Witches and wizards from all over Europe travelled to Diagon Alley to sample Cobweb and Mustardseed's rare and high quality potions and potion ingredients. _The Daily Prophet_ had described in lurid detail how Death Eaters had broken into O'Brien's opulent London home and attacked his Muggle father. Alfred had tried to defend him but had been overpowered. The Aurors arrived to find the two grotesque and distorted bodies , burnt almost unrecognisably from the inside out with blood-boiling curses.

"How bad is it going to get before You Know Who is defeated?" Peter asked. Sirius had noticed that his face had developed a permanently apprehensive cast over the last few days.

"Oh, Wormtail," James said, "you're not falling for all the 'don't say his name' crap are you?"

"It's better to be safe than sorry, isn't it?" Peter said stubbornly. "I've got a ton of Muggle family. I just don't want to risk it."

"Well, I think it's just going to get worse," Sirius said. "Clearly the Aurors don't have a grip on this thing and Neil was saying that even the Unspeakables aren't showing any sign of being able to track him. Don't you think, Moony?" He glanced at Remus. "Oh."

Remus, only a few recovered from the full moon, was already asleep, pale, pain-lined face squashed unflatteringly against the window, his body curled in on itself. The late afternoon sunlight was streaming in, highlighting a darker patch on Remus's faded black school robes. Sirius felt his mouth tighten in worry as he reached out to touch it. His fingers came back stained with blood.

"Merlin," Peter went green. "Is he going to be okay?"

"It was a deep wound," Sirius said, pulling out his wand to cast a cleaning charm on his hand. "The healing charms are just taking a bit of time too kick in and moving around this much aggravated it. I'll help him change the bandages in the loo when he wakes up." He felt a rush of frustration. "He shouldn't have to transform alone, just because he's away from school."

"Not much we can do about it, mate," James pointed out. "Not unless you plan on telling his _Auror_ stepfather that we're all illegal animagi and have been hanging out with a transformed werewolf for the last year."

"Then what was the _point_?"

"You know what the point was. We help."

"We could help more."

"Not now we can't," James said. "A year and a half, Padfoot. Then we're finished at Hogwarts and the two of you can go and raise chickens or start your band or whatever it is you plan to do. And Pete and I will come round every full to help out."

"If we all live that long," Peter put in gloomily.

"Besides," James continued, "our surprise for this evening should cheer him up a bit."

"Yeah," Sirius said, feeling his mood lighten a little. "I can't wait to see his face."

Remus spent practically the whole journey to Hogwarts fast asleep. Sirius secretly worried over the fact it was taking the young werewolf longer and longer to recover from his full moon injuries – especially after moons when he'd had to transform on his own. He didn't dare voice his fears to the others; mainly because speaking them aloud it would just make them more solid and real. He just had to keep banking on advances in medical potions and developments towards the wolfsbane potion.

He woke Remus shortly before they arrived at Hogsmeade station and helped him to the train toilet to change his bandages. The wound was a sizable gash that started at waist-level and snaked down towards the small of his back.

"Looks better than it did this morning," he said, voice determinedly cheerful. He murmured a spell to syphon off the oozing blood from around the closing wound. As he reapplied the bandage, his eyes automatically flicked over the rest of Remus's torso. The stress of recent months meant he was even skinnier than ever, his wiry muscle wrapped in tight cords over his bones. The scars though, thanks to Madame Pomfrey's potion, were a hundred times better than they had been when Remus was younger. Many were still visible, but they looked old and faded rather than vivid and nauseatingly cruel. Sirius traced the edges of the original bite where it was just visible beneath his hitched-up shirt. It was one of the few that hadn't really faded with the aid of the potion. Remus shivered a little and twisted in the confined space of the little toilet room to kiss the corner of Sirius's mouth.

"It's okay, you know, Padfoot," he murmured against Sirius's jaw.

"It's not, though, is it?" Sirius's other hand tightened over Remus's crooked elbow. He didn't need to point out he was bearing a fair amount of Remus's weight.

"Well," Remus amended, "as okay as it ever was, you know. Besides, the next moon is going to be a doddle."

Sirius blinked. He'd never, in the entire time he'd known Remus, seen him he regard a transformation with anything other than abject dread. "A doddle? You do know what 'doddle' means, don't you?"

"Child's play," Remus said. "A walk in the park. Comparatively speaking, of course. You won't be patching up gaping wolf bites, anyway."

Sirius had no idea what Remus was talking about. Even with the other Marauders there in their animal forms, Moony's aggressiveness often overcame him and he'd gnaw and bite at his own body until they distracted him again.

His confusion was obviously clear on his face because Remus frowned and said, "I told you about it, remember?"

"About what?"

"About Blood Moon."

"Blood Mo…oh!" Sirius gaped. "The thing with Merlin and the blood of a thousand werewolves and stuff? Where you get to keep your mind at full moon because of the lunar eclipse?"

Remus smiled tremulously.

"That's next month? Why didn't you say?"

"I thought you knew. You usually keep a very tight focus on my moon schedule."

"Yeah well," Sirius scratched the back of his neck. "Things have been a bit hectic lately what with everything, you know. I didn't think to look. So you'll really be able to keep your human mind?"

"Apparently. I've not experienced it before."

"Oh, Moony." Sirius drew Remus to him and tucked his face into the other boy's neck so Remus wouldn't see his distinctly un-manly expression. Remus's fingers drifted up to scratch through his hair – something that Sirius's inner Padfoot could never resist leaning into.

There was a loud knocking at the door that made them both jump apart.

"Look lively, lads," called James's muffled voice. "We're nearly at Hogsmeade station."

The blast of cool, crisp winter air hit them as they stepped out of the train. No one commented on the way that the Marauders hovered in a subtle, but worried half circle as they made their way to the coaches. By now, all the students at Hogwarts were familiar with Remus's bouts of illness, though the rumours as to what he suffered from varied wildly. Sirius had come across hundreds of speculations over the years varying from the certainty that Remus's abusive father had cast an unbreakable curse on him for getting him put into Azkaban, to the unwavering believe that Remus Lupin had a terrible drug habit that he was unable to break. Luckily, no one seemed to even consider the truth. Remus was known throughout the school as being kind, patient, clever, fastidious and (it couldn't be denied) more than a little eccentric. He was one of the few older students who didn't regard helping to tutor younger years as a chore, and most people were of the firm opinion that if it weren't for Remus, the havoc the Marauders created around the school would be even worse. Sirius had often wondered how people would react if they knew that Remus was actually the mastermind behind most of their most complex and difficult pranking spell-work.

Whatever the reason, no one thought it odd when he and James hauled Remus up into the waiting coaches. No one even batted an eyelid when Remus paused to stroke the nose of one of the harnessed thestrals on the way (although most students were not even aware they were there).

Sirius felt a little of his normal start-of-term excitement returning when their coach turned the corner and Hogwarts castle appeared before them in all its ancient, golden-lit glory. Its rugged silhouette stood out starkly against the indigo, star-studded sky, the warmth of a hundred lit rooms spilling forth from distant windows.

The air of anticipation seemed to have built in others as well, and students poured out of coaches and swarmed towards the Main Hall for the start of term feast with a great deal more enthusiasm that they had shown at the station. The chatter stopped abruptly when they entered the double doors. The students at the front had drawn to a stop and the ones at the back were pushing and shoving in an attempt to see what the problem was.

Sirius couldn't help grinning in anticipation and Remus must have caught his expression because he sighed and said; "Oh Padfoot. What have you done this time?"

"Me?"

Remus looked at him pointedly, then glanced and James's and Peter' smug expressions. "Do I even want to know?"

The crowd was thinning and Sirius grabbed Remus's arm as firmly as he dared around his injuries and pulled him forward. When Remus caught sight of the Great Hall his breath hitched in his throat and he froze.

The teachers' table and the four House tables were in full feast get-up. Platters of roast potatoes, Yorkshire puddings and peppered swede jostled for room against the fragrant pork, roast beef and marinated chicken. Candied carrots and buttered peas steamed in bowls beside glistening sausages, French beans and smooth onion gravy. As usual, the savoury delights were interrupted by incongruous sweets, ranging from cinnamon-sprinkled melon balls and sugar mice to treacle tart and bread-and-butter pudding.

A thousand white candles set the ceiling ablaze as they floated among the House banners. However, what everyone's eyes were drawn to were the giant platters that cradled the magnificent feast; the gleaming gravy boats and polished vegetable dishes, the dinner plates that lined the student benches. They reflected the glittering candles in a sea of breath-taking gold.

"Oh." The word, coming from Remus's mouth, was barely a word – more a huff of escaping breath. "How of _earth_ did you…?" He trailed off. "This must have cost a fortune!" He tore his eyes away to stare at them instead.

"Oh Moony, don't look like that," Peter said, reaching out to pat Remus's shoulder. "We didn't nick it if that's what you're worried about. You know Dumbledore wouldn't have allowed it." It didn't seem to cross his mind that they _couldn't_ have, even if they had wanted to. They all knew the Marauders could do anything if they put their minds to it.

"How then?" Remus hissed, obviously aware that they were surrounded by other students.

Sirius grinned. "Who knows? Anonymous donor, last I heard."

"_Who_? You only have that gold that Regulus put in your chest before you left home. Pete's not exactly rolling in it, and James only gets a couple of galleons a month in allowance which wouldn't be enough to pay for all this even if I _didn't_ know he'd blown most of this month's on a sneakoscope and four issues of _Playwizard_ in Diagon Alley last week."

"Good Godric, Moony, could you be any more freakily observant," James said, flushing.

"Someone has to keep an eye on you lot."

They broke off their conversation as they were hustled towards the Gryffindor table by an impatient Professor McGonagall, though Sirius noticed that she spared a fond smile for the Marauders before she moved off again to herd other malingerers towards their seats. He guessed Dumbledore told her about who the 'anonymous' donor was.

"So?" Remus was sitting beside Peter, opposite James and Siruis at the table. He leant forward, keeping his voice low. "You know I'm going to find out eventually."

Sirius sighed, buckling easily as they all knew he would. "Ask this one," he said, nodding to James.

James scowled at him. "Achilles' kneecap," he sniped.

"It's 'heel', you wanker." Sirius shakes his head. "And the day you can refuse Evans anything is the day you can come lecturing me about heels or kneecaps or any other Greek-hero body parts you'd care to mention."

"Whatever," James said dismissively. "Fine, Moony – if you have to know, the anonymous donor might also be known as Mr H Potter."

Remus frowned, eyes dark honey-amber in the candlelight. "H Potter? As In 'Harold'? Your Dad?"

"Of course my Dad. How many other H Potters do you know?"

"But…" Remus's eyes swept the table, taking in the sea of glittering golden crockery with bemusement. "Your Dad doesn't even like me."

"Course he does," James said, just a shade too quickly.

"I could smell the silver on him the entire time I was there the last time."

James flinched and Sirius felt his heart jump in his own chest. "Why didn't you _say_ anything?" he said, before he could stop himself.

"Because I understand!" Remus seemed to realise his voice had become too loud because he lowered it so only his friends could hear again. "I understand and it's okay. He was just protecting his family. He had every right and I was just grateful he allowed me to stay in your home. Even transformed. There aren't many people who'd do that. I wasn't going to complain about his little insurance policy. What I _don't_ understand is why he would do this." He waved his hand to encompass the glittering feast.

"Because he _does_ like you," James said. "I didn't know about the silver, Moony, and I'm sorry about that, but he does like you. I won't lie and say he doesn't struggle with what you are, because he does. But he feels guilty about it and he knows he shouldn't feel that way."

"So he spent your entire inheritance to assuage his guilt?"

Peter snorted. "Only you would use a word like 'assuage' as part of everyday whinge, Rem."

"My inheritance?" James glanced around, ignoring Peter's interjection. "It's only gold-plait. Works just fine for house elf magic. Trust me, this barely makes a dent in the Potter fortune. We're a very old family."

It was a slight exaggeration, Sirius knew, but not much of one. For someone like Remus who rarely had to worry about handling silver sickles because he rarely even _had_ silver sickles, trying to comprehend that much wealth was clearly a struggle. Not for the first time, Sirius felt ashamed of growing up rich.

Remus ducked his head, tawny fringe falling forward to shield his eyes. "Well…thanks, I guess. Tell him thanks. It means a lot."

'A lot'. Small words, but Sirius could feel the weight of them as he watched Remus dish up. Nearly six years he had been watching Remus dish up his food at the Gryffindor table. It was a sight that was as familiar to him as James staggering to the shower first thing in the morning, or Peter's intense squint at his toothbrush as he applied the exact same amount of Torblerob's Terrific Technicolour Toothpaste that his mother had taught him to at the age of three. Remus did everything carefully and neatly – making his bed, writing, turning the pages of a book, packing his school bag. Sirius knew it was another one of the myriad of ways that Remus desperately clung to the control he lost so violently every month. But the way he dished up food was even more careful than the rest. He'd always held the spoon or ladle tightly in white-knuckled fingers, eyes cautiously contemplating the exact piece and amount of food he wanted, then, in quick, spare movements, would scoop up the food without mess or even clinking the edge of the dish or platter. He'd withdraw his hands again as soon as possible.

Now, though, as Sirius watched the familiar process, he saw Remus hesitate, spoon still dipped in the swede. His eyes flicked up to catch Sirius's and, without looking away, he very deliberately let one wrist brush the edge of the dish.

The expression he had on his face as he hand drew back unscathed, made the four days he and James had promised to spend cleaning out the east wing attic at Potter Manor over the summer holidays well worthwhile.

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"This is the worst punishment ever," James groaned, staring up at the dozens upon dozens of heavy leather-bound tomes that made up the History of Magic section in the library.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. For a Marauder, that was quite a declaration. "Worse than that time you had to clean out the owlry with a Muggle toothbrush?"

"Yes!"

"Worse than that time you had to muck out the dugbogs' enclosure after we sneaked chilli into their evening feed?"

"Yes!"

"Worse than that time you had to take care of those pygmy puffs with Glorgleboke's disease who kept spontaneously exploding and showering your bed with guts?"

James winced, but voiced another "Yes!" nevertheless. Seriously, mate," he continued, "this is even worse than that time we had to scrub the Slytherin's changing room showers by hand. And that involved picking out slimy Slytherin _hair_ from the plugholes with my _bare hands_. And some of it wasn't even head-hair._"_

Sirius vomited a bit in his mouth and swallowed rapidly. "Nothing can be worse than that."

"Seven hundred years of goblin warfare, Padfoot. _Seven hundred years_. And we have to teach the rug rats enough about it that they can pass their test next _Friday_. Otherwise we're going to be stuck doing this forever."

Put like that, the task did take on seem to be looming ahead of them in epic proportions. "It should just be revision," he said hopelessly. "It's a revision club. McGonagall can't expect us to _teach_ them all this stuff in time."

"Do you even remember first year?" James demanded. "The only people who didn't sleep through Binn's lectures were creepy Ravenclaw nerds, Moony and Evans."

Sirius nodded, unable to deny the truth of the statement. It didn't help that Moony had accidently eaten all his first year History of Magic notes sometime during their second year when the basement his father kept him in for his transformation also served as his bedroom. "Well, maybe we should just teach them the method we used to skate through," he suggested. "All you need is a basic knowledge of goblin war tactics and unlimited creativity when it comes to inventing names along the lines of 'Gordred the Gruesome' and 'Handrig the Horny'."

"You will do no such thing!" Sirius and James both jumped and turned to look at Lily who had stepped out from a gap between one of the stacks with a heavy book clutched to her chest.

Sirius felt himself bristle as the sight of her tight-lipped, disproving expression. "Yeah? What you going to do about it, Evans?"

"You can't teach children to cheat, Black. That's low, even for you."

Sirius treated her to a smile that he knew was a little to canine for comfort. "You don't know me at all, Evans. If you did, you'd know I've gone a hell of a lot lower than that in my time."

Lily huffed, looking a mixture of determined and uncomfortable. Wisps of red hair were escaping from the loose knot she had pulled it into at some point that day and framed a pale face. Just for a second, Sirius caught a glimpse of what James saw in her. It was something about her eyes – fierce and green and full of fire and an almost bruising vulnerability. There was something about that angry, helpless, brittle strength that, for a second, reminded Sirius forcefully of Remus.

"They gave you this punishment for a reason," Lily said. "This isn't like polishing the trophy room or cleaning out the broom shed. It's important. You can't screw it up."

"Mind you own business, Evans," Sirius said, doing his best to appear aloof and dismissive. "If you care so much about them, you go ahead and tutor them. Leave us the free time, eh, Prongs?"

He glanced at James who had remained remarkably quiet through most of the exchange, especially considering who they were talking to. Usually, he would have made a fool of himself at least twice by now. For a second, Sirius thought James had become hypnotised by Lily's breasts, and he opened his mouth to mock before it suddenly dawned on him that his friend wasn't staring fixedly at her chest, but at the book she held clutched to it. Frowning, Sirius turned his attention to it and when he caught a glimpse of the cover, he felt his breath catch in his throat.

"Where did you get that?" he snapped at Lily.

The girl jumped at the sudden change in his tone. She clutched the book tighter and raised her chin defiantly. "Mind you own business, Black." Her voice was a rather wobbly imitation of his own and thus lacked the bite he knew she'd been going for.

"Answer him," James said, suddenly seeming to come alive. He raised his head and stared at her fiercely. "Who gave you permission to have that book?"

Lily's guilty flush was answer enough.

"Put it back." The only people Sirius had ever spoken to this seriously were the other Marauders and Regulus.

"I will do no such thing. You've no right to boss me around. Either of you!"

"That didn't seem to be bothering you earlier," Sirius said tightly. "Put the damn book back."

"No."

"Mordred and Morgana," James cursed. "Just do it, Lily. Do you have any _idea_ the kind of stuff that's in there?"

"Do you?" she challenged.

"Yes. And trust me when I say you do _not_ want to be messing with that kind of stuff. That is…it's about Old Magic. Raw magic. It's what magic was before we tamed it with wands and…and…words and ceremonies and things. If you mess with that kind of magic you can't even begin to predict the consequences."

"Well you've clearly read it!" she snapped. "You nicked it from the Restricted Section before me and used it for one of you stupid pranks –"

"No!" She broke off at Sirius's sharp retort. "You stupid girl. We would _never_. We're both old bloods. Pure bloods. We grew up with this stuff. We wouldn't dream of ever using it for…" he shook his head. Sometimes Muggleborns just stood out a mile off. Fumbling, coltish things that bumbled through the wizarding world with no idea how to slot themselves into ten thousand years of magical legacy. He couldn't even bring himself to feel guilty at the thought.

"Then why did you…?"

"Moony." Sirius bit out the word, knowing from the look in her eyes that his own expression was more than a little disturbing. "We were trying to find a cure for Remus. But even we weren't stupid enough to read past the first page before we knew we were in over our heads. Put the damn thing back and just pray you can forget what you read in it."

"I could keep my family safe," Lily said and that brittle strength in her eyes visibly shattered. "A family with a Muggleborn child who lived just a mile away from my own were tortured to death over Christmas. I left them vulnerable to come back here. My mother, my father, my sister. I have to be able to protect them."

"Not like this," James said, and he actually stepped forward to try and prize her fingers off the book.

"There's a spell in it," Lily said, voice breathless and not entirely hinged. Like Moony on a really bad day. "No – not a spell. It's too old for that. It's like you said: Old Magic. Sacrifice. Tied into raw emotions. If I can get between them and Him, I won't need to know a bunch of defence against Dark Arts spells. I'd just need conviction, a bucket load of raw magic and a willingness to sacrifice – "

"No!" James yanked the book from her grasp and shoved it at Sirius. The leather was a little too warm to be merely the remnants of her body heat and it was the colour of old blood. Sirius remembered it too well; the roiling, petrified sickness that rose in his thirteen-year-old belly as a thousand years of Black genes surged in recognition. He remembered tracing the cracked leather with a shaking hand – no title, no sigil, no picture. This was a cover. A binding in every sense of the word. He'd known right away that Remus would never forgive them if they took it any further and they'd snuck the book back that night, hearts hammering like it had been a brush with death.

For the first time, Lily began to look genuinely frightened. Her gaze flicked from James's face – deathly pale and holding no trace of its usual mischief – to Sirius's. He didn't know what she saw on his, but she made no attempt to get the book back.

"Swear you won't use it," James insisted, his hand still clutching her wrist painfully. He looked decades older than sixteen right then. "Swear it. Not for your mother or your father, or even your sister. Swear it. Swear it, Lily."

"I s-swear it."

"Not for your mother or your father – "

"Or even my goddam sister, Potter. I swear it, okay?" Lily's face was so white her freckles looked like spots of blood on a cotton sheet.

"We'll take it back," Sirius said, turning his back and shoving the book into his school bag, biting back his relief at getting it out of his hand.

"I won't use it," said Lily, her tone numb and blank. "My God, I've never seen the two of you so worked up about anything except Remus. I'm not stupid. If it scares the balls off the Marauders, I'm leaving it well alone."

"Good," James's breath left his chest in an audible whoosh. "Good."

"You can let go of my arm now, Potter."

James blinked and released her. Sirius could see livid fingermarks decorating her forearm.

"Sorry," James mumbled. He pulled out his wand. Here – let me…"

Lily jerked her arm back. "The day I let you at me with that wand, James, is the day pigs fly, thestrals turn vegetarian and I finally agree to go on a date with you."

Sirius, who noted the way her hand curled almost protectively over the marks, didn't believe her for a second.

"And don't think this has made me forget about your plans to teach the vast majority of Gryffindor first years to cheat in their history tests."

It was the most unsubtle change of subject since the time Sirius walked in on Peter wanking to a woodcut of half-naked dryads from an old mythology book and was consequently subjected to a ten minute monologue on the Cannon's defeat over the Harpies at the last Quidditch World Cup. However, Lily was more than partly responsible for the fact he was currently going out with a gorgeous, sexy and exquisitely eccentric werewolf so he was willing to give her a pass. "It's not just Gryffindors," he told her. "It's all the Houses. All the ones who performed particularly appallingly in their last exam."

"This is stupid," James agreed, face smoothing into its usual good-natured expression with just a hint of teenage rebellion. "If they don't listen to Binns, why on earth would they listen to us?"

"Well," Sirius said, "no one really listens to Binns, do they? I heard a rumour that bored himself to death."

"It's like I said," Lily interjected. "They gave you this punishment for a reason."

"Yeah, because they know just what to do to make us really suffer. This is so unfair. One little pirate ship – "

"Four," Lily said.

"- _Four _little pirate ships, a bit of water, a few harmless – okay _mostly_ harmless – water creatures, one small pumpkin-Kraken and locking the teachers in a cage for a bit of a lark… I mean, come on! This was a complete overreaction. They're trying to torture us. James is right. Why would the firsties listen to us?"

"Because you're the Marauders," Lily said matter-of-factly. "Oh, don't look at me like that. I'm not at all impressed by your stupid little gang with its stupid little name, but for kids who still think that setting dungbombs off under people's chairs is the height of classy humour you're like celebrities. The teachers know what goes on in the school. They know Professor Binns is fatally boring. They know that if anyone can inspire those kids to take an interest in magical history it'd be you lot."

"Really?" James said. "You think we're like…role models for firsties?"

"Dear God, I hope not." Lily rolled her eyes. "I'm saying you have an influence on them and it's up to you to make sure it's a good influence, not a bad one."

"But it's history," Sirius felt the need to point out. "The only thing we're going to inspire them to do is Avada Kedavra themselves out of sheer boredom."

"Well, lucky for you you've been assigned the group of students in this generation most unlikely to ever master that particular curse," Lily said tartly. "Why don't you just make it interesting? I mean, it _is_ interesting when you think about it. Epic wars with enchanted weapons. Dramatic deaths and famous last stands. Plenty of gore, bloodshed and evil plots… The only reason everyone thinks it's boring is because Binns has been inflicted on the vast majority of the British Wizarding community for about a century. You could make it more exciting."

"How?" Sirius asked suspiciously. "I'm not doing fingerpaints or bedtime stories."

"This from the boys who tried to teach sex ed with sock puppets."

"That was an inspired idea," James protested. "It would have been brilliant if you hadn't interrupted and gone all prefecty on us."

"And then dobbed on us to Moony," Sirius said, who still felt sore about that.

Lily rolled her eyes. "It was the fact it was sex ed that I was against. Not your teaching methods. Hands-on is the way to go with these children, boys. Sock puppets, pictures, dramatic re-enactments..."

Sirius had a sudden vision of himself at the head of an army of obedient first years, all armed with home-made goblin weaponry, short attention spans, and a legitimate excuse to cause chaos through the halls of Hogwarts. He slanted a glance at James who was wearing an expression of burgeoning glee. It was the sort of expression that had the more fragile members of the Hogwarts staff ducking for cover and whimpering.

"Historically accurate," Lily emphasised, suddenly looking a bit worried.

"What was it you said, Evans?" Sirius treated her to his most wicked smile. "Epic wars with enchanted weapons. Dramatic deaths and famous last stands. Plenty of gore, bloodshed and evil plots?"

Lily shot James a desperate look. He shrugged and grinned. "He has a rather phenomenal memory when it comes to ensuring people's words come back to haunt them."

"Listen, if I lend you my first year notes, will you promise not to do anything too horrific?"

She was treated to two identical pumpkin grins. "Dear God, what have I done?"

"Marauders' honour, Evans," Sirius said cheerfully.

"That's what I'm afraid of."

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"Seriously, Moony, it was amazing," Sirius said as they lay on Remus's bed later that evening, screened from the outside world by the bed curtains and a silencing charm. Remus lay stretched out on his back, the book he'd been reading when Sirius invaded lying spine-up and abandoned on his chest. Sirius leaned over him to check he had his full attention. "Fifteen – maybe even twenty minutes of conversation and not one single hex."

"Not even a little one?" Remus asked sceptically.

"Not even a third nipple. I swear it was like seeing a dementor give up on the creepy black cloak image and take up wearing floral print dress robes."

"I told you she was softening up."

"Softening up? That's an understatement. Prongs is still mooning about like he's been knocked upside the head with a beater's bat. You know, I honestly never thought he had a chance with her."

"Oh, please," Remus scoffed. "You could see it a mile off. The only reason he always gets her so riled up is because he _does_ get her so riled up, and she can't bear for her body to betray her like that. I knew the minute he showed even an iota of maturity it was only a matter of time."

Sirius wrinkled his nose. "Do I even want to know how you know all that?"

Remus tapped his nose and sniffed meaningfully. It took Sirius a few seconds to catch on. "Oh eew! You mean you can smell when she…?"

"Padfoot, I can smell when _anyone_…you know. It's not always particularly informative. I don't need to tell you that teenagers get aroused by practically anything. And I mean anything. It's incredibly disturbing most of the time."

"I'll bet. So what, you can even smell horny Slytherins? Horny _Snivellus_?"

Remus winced. "I try not to when at all possible."

"Well? What does it for – ?"

"Trust me. You don't want to know. And I am not telling you."

Sirius had every plan to push further until something occurred to him. "Hey. If you can tell when someone is horny, how come it came as such a surprise that I fancied you back?"

"I didn't really know for certain what it meant back then. Everyone smells slightly different and it didn't even occur to me that you liking me back was a possibility so I dismissed it as something else. Or sometimes I told myself it was because you'd spotted a girl you liked or were daydreaming or something. Besides, your horniness is all mixed up with pack and mate and friend and protectiveness. It's different."

"Too be fair," Sirius said, "I hadn't realised myself until James knocked some sense into me. Literally." They lay in silence for a few moments, Remus staring up at the canopy of the bed and Sirius staring absently at the small edge of a scar that was just visible on Remus's collarbone where his shirt had been pulled to the side a bit.

"Well," Remus said eventually. "I owe him one."

"He owes _you_ one," Sirius said. "We all know Lily wouldn't have even given him a chance if you hadn't got to her. Threatened her with rivers of Lily-blood last I heard."

"I did no such thing!"

Sirius raised his eyebrows and Remus flushed and looked away. "It wasn't like it sounds."

"Of course it wasn't, Moony. Nothing with you ever is."

"Is that a criticism?"

"A fact." Unable to help himself, Sirius reached out a hand and traced the tempting silvery trail of the scar over Remus's collarbone, dipping his finger under his shirt where it disappeared.

For a few seconds, Remus's eyes fluttered closed in enjoyment. Then he seemed to realise what Sirius was doing and he stiffened and pressed his hand away. "Not that, Padfoot. You know that."

"It's stupid, Remus," Sirius said, frustrated. "You don't mind if I touch your scars accidently. Why does it bother you so much when I deliberately do it?"

"Because you…_trace_ them. It's stupid. I know they're there. You know they're there. Can't we just ignore them?"

"Why? If it doesn't bother me, why should it bother you? I don't think they're gross."

"Well forgive me for not wanting to be reminded of the full moon and my abusive father when we're about to shag."

"That's the whole point! You need to claim them. Make them your own, not theirs. Do you realise there are whole portions of your body that you've basically fenced off from me to keep for them?" Sirius shook his head as he realised this was quickly degenerating into an argument. "You know what? Never mind." He moved to get up off the bed, but stopped when Remus caught his arm, book sliding off his chest unheeded.

"Don't. Just let me explain."

Sirius hesitated then sat down again carefully. "You can try."

"It just sounds so stupid when I say it out loud. You have to bear with me." Remus half sat up, running a hand through mussed tawny hair. "It's like…when you're tracing the scars you're tracing their paths. You're deliberately following their lines and curves. Like you're, I don't know, following the path of the wolf or my father."

"So what?" Sirius shook his head in bemusement. "You're worried your scars are going to _corrupt_ me? Really? They're just bits of healed flesh, Moony."

"I know!" Remus's fist curled defensively, his body unconsciously slipping into a poised, canine fight-or-flight mode. Sirius could never help feeling just slightly daunted by the flash of the wolf he caught in these moments. Not disgusted or frightened, just daunted. Like he had promised to carry home a bar of gold safely one-handed and only now realised just how heavy it was. "I didn't say it was logical. It just is what it is."

"Well, _it_ is stupid," said Sirius, who had never excelled at tact even on a good day. "And if you know it's not logical, you should let me try and fix it."

"It's not something you can fix, Sirius. It's just who I am."

"Don't be ridiculous. It's just some screwed up psychological wotsit from having had a crap life and having to – you know – basically eat yourself once a month."

"And you think you can just fix it by poking at my scars, do you?"

"The seriously Sirius touch."

When Remus visibly wavered, Sirius pressed his point home. "Come on. What's the worst that can happen? You fail to get off, I take a blow to my masculinity (which, let's face it, is up to the challenge) and we brush it under the magic carpet and suffer through a few awkward silences for the next couple of days."

Remus hesitated for a long moment, then groaned and flopped back on the bed. "Fine! Poke away you egotistical sod."

"And they say romance is dead. Lose the shirt, Moony."

Remus's fist clench in the hem of his shirt. "Can't you just poke at the arm ones to begin with? Ease me in?"

Tilting his head, Sirius scanned Remus's defensive posture – tightened shoulders, pursed lips, clenched fists. "Course we can. Here – shift to the middle of the bed. Put that book aside. You know you'll get all growly and irritated if we rip the spine off or something."

He congratulated himself as Remus relaxed a little at the light tone. Nudging him to the middle of the bed, Sirius straddled the slimmer boy without really resting his weight on him. Remus stared up at him, wary, watchful, a glimpse of the wolf in his eyes. It always sent a spike of arousal through Sirius's body as he thought about the fact that Remus – who was fully capable of crushing the bones of his arm with one hand – allowed Sirius place him in this vulnerable position.

Sirius slowly, but without hesitation, picked up Remus's left hand in one of his own. It was a slim hand with blunt, boyish nails and ingrained ink stains on the ring finger. It didn't look like the hand of a werewolf; not until he turned it palm up and saw the tail end of a barely-visible scar snaking delicately up from his wrist and into the centre of his palm, neatly bisecting his life line. Gently, Sirius traced the scar with his index finger, following its trail to the worn cuff of Remus's school shirt. Remus tensed, but didn't pull away.

"Can I?" Sirius asked, touching the button of the cuff. Remus pressed his lips more tightly together, but nodded.

Sirius flicked the button out of the buttonhole and neatly started rolling the sleeve up Remus's arm, keeping his actions as clinical and calm as possible. Remus did allow Sirius to tend his injuries at full moon, so Sirius guessed it might make him feel more comfortable if his actions were familiar. Sure enough, the tension slowly started sapping from Remus body as Sirius tucked his rolled sleeve into the crook of his elbow. Then he moved back down to Remus's hand and once again started to trace the scar with a light fingertip.

Remus's breath quickened, his pulse fluttering frantically under the fingers of Sirius's other hand which cradled his wrist. Sirius, who knew Remus's moods better than he knew his own, was fully aware that the light tremor that was beginning to take over the werewolf's body was about seventy-five percent nerves, twenty percent arousal and five percent desire to rip Sirius's weak human hands from his protesting body and crunch into them with relish. Luckily, that five percent was under the strict control of Remus Lupin who would die before he ever hurt a hair on Sirius's body.

"It's okay, Moony," Sirius murmured, tracing the path of the tempting scar over Remus's wrist and up to the tissue-soft warmth of his inner elbow. "Don't think about it. Just feel."

"Easy for you to say," Remus said through gritted teeth.

"Really. Just close your eyes. Go on."

Remus huffed out a shaky breath, but obeyed. Sirius waited until the last slit of amber disappeared behind closed lids, then gently raised Remus's hand to his mouth. He breathed over the knuckles, hot breath lacing between Remus's fingers, lips barely touching the skin.

"What are you…?"

"Hush, Moony." Sirius turned Remus's hand and, before the werewolf could react, present the tip of his tongue to the tip of the scar.

"S-Sirius!" Remus's breath hitched as Sirius traced his tongue along the silvery path of the scar, and Sirius's mental Moony-abacus recalculated the percentage of Remus's arousal to have risen to a hefty fifty. The werewolf's slim fingers opened and closed restlessly, grasping at nothing.

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" Sirius breathed into the crook of Remus's arm, eliciting another shiver from him. Before Remus could reply, Sirius touched his tongue to the jagged end of another scar and traced it back down Remus's arm, picking up the trail of another on the way down until the flat of his tongue rested against the frantic flutter of the pulse in Remus's wrist. Then he licked a wet line up Remus's palm to the tip of his index finger, finishing by drawing the finger into his mouth and sucking on it gently.

"Nng!" Remus said articulately as Sirius grazed his teeth gently over the pad of his finger.

Sixty percent, Sirius thought with satisfaction, and rising almost as quickly a certain parts of Sirius's body that were becoming hard to ignore. He released Remus's finger with a quiet pop then, before he could do more than whimper in protest, moved up his body and dipped his face into the curve of Remus's neck, mouth fastening on the jagged tip of the scar that dipped over the other boy's collarbone.

The sounds Remus made in response was definitely more wolf than human.

"Can I take off your shirt now, Moony?" Sirius mumbled into his neck without moving his mouth.

"Mmng!"

"I'll need a bit more in the way of English, I'm afraid." Sirius raised his head. "I don't want to accidently so something you don't want."

"In the name of G-Godric and all his little goblins, Padfoot, do what you like as long as you get back to it!"

Sirius grinned and deftly started unbuttoning Remus's shirt before the werewolf could change his mind. Remus tensed, but didn't stop him, panting lightly as Sirius parted his shirt and looked down at him.

"Seriously, Moony," Sirius murmured, unable to keep the reverence out of his voice. "No one gets me as hot as you do."

Remus looked up at him through slitted eyes, not encouraging him, but not discouraging him either. Lowering his head, Sirius once again mouthed at the collarbone scar. He worked at it with tongue and teeth until Remus was gasping again, hands lifting to touch Sirius's shoulders and hair without pushing or grasping.

"More?" Sirius breathed, allowing his breath to drift along damp skin.

"S-Sirius…"

"More, Moony?"

"huh – y-y-yes."

"Okay then. No corrupting, you'll see. I'm taking back this territory on Moony-land for us. For you 'n me."

"Yes," Remus said with more certainty this time.

And Sirius invaded Moony-land with force, taking no prisoners. Mouth, tongue, hands, even strands of black hair teased and traced over scar after scar, over collarbone and breastbone, over the gentle furrows of ribs and the light dusting of tawny hair between Remus's nipples. Sirius breathed paths of cool air into the musky warmth of Remus's armpits and over his hardening nipples. The only parts he avoided were the freshest wounds that were still only partly healed.

Remus surrendered with only the smallest nervous resistance. He panted, writhed, whimpered; gasping forth a stream of stuttered syllables that mixed human words of affection and desire with wolf-words of trust and devotion.

When Sirius reached Remus's trembling belly, the other boy's arousal clearly visible beneath worn trousers, he had to stop for a few seconds just to get himself under control.

"P-P-Padfoot?"

"Relax, babe. This is only half time."

Remus groaned and dropped his head back. "You're going to be the death of me."

"Little death, maybe," Sirius said, and stuck his tongue into Remus's navel.

"Oh God!"

"Close," Sirius agreed sagely. There were a number of scars criss-crossing Remus's belly. It was a place the frustrated wolf had easy access to when the moon was full and he was trapped. Sirius traced each one with fingers and tongue and breath until Remus lost a grip on his reservations altogether. When Sirius tongued his way down the soft line of hair to the fly of Remus's trousers, Remus actually yelped.

"Can I?" he asked, nuzzling the hard line at the front of Remus's trousers.

"M-Merlin, Sirius, you don't know what the h-hell you're doing!"

Sirius shrugged. "I've always been more of a practical sort of learner. I bet you've got a book on this, don't you? Proper step by step guide and all. You could give me house points when I do something right."

"If you do something wrong you could bite off something vital!"

"I won't bite off anything, Moony, I promise."

Remus hesitated, pupils still blown wide by arousal, only the thinnest ring of amber visible. Sirius pressed his mouth to the front of Remus's trousers again and breathed out a gush of hot, damp air.

"Okay! Y-yes! Okay!"

Sirius grinned in triumph and popped open Remus's fly. His grin faded a little as he was presented with the reality of what he was actually about to do. Until this point, it had been mutual hand jobs and a fair bit of frottage. Nothing that could really be considered sex in the actual sense.

"Padfoot," Remus said gently, when Sirius hesitated. "It's okay. Use your hand. Come up here and kiss me and use your hand. I like that."

Sirius's resolve hardened, almost as much as other parts of his body. "Bugger that for a lark, Moony-my-lad. Hold on tight, now, 'cause this is gonna be a hell of a ride."

"Sirius, really – _Oh my God!_"

It _was_ clumsy. Sirius couldn't deny that. His mouth was awkward and everything tasted sort strange and sort of familiar at the same time. He had to use his hand a lot more than he had anticipated and his teeth did keep getting in his way. He accidently grazed Remus a couple of times, but the young werewolf didn't appear to care too much. If anything it seemed to accelerate his journey to climax. It wasn't surprising, really, when one considered how much of Remus's life he had spent becoming acclimatised to acute physical pain. If pain becomes part of a person's life then it was hardly surprising that it slips into all areas. A part of Sirius's mind registered amazement that he could think at all, right now, let alone something as deeply philosophical as that.

"P-Pad! _P-P-Padfoot!_"

A sharp tug on his hair warned Sirius just in time. He pulled back quickly and got splattered on his chest, his hand still working at Remus. Remus's head was tossed back carelessly, his mouth open and eyes closed. His fists were clenched so hard in the bedsheets that Sirius knew if he had been holding the bedpost it would have been reduced to splinters.

He slid up Remus's body and kissed his open mouth frantically, thrusting against Remus's taut thigh. Remus responded sluggishly at first, then more enthusiastically. He put his arms around Sirius and pressed him more tightly against his hips. That was all it took. Sirius buried his face in Remus's neck and rode out his climax, gasping, before collapsing half on top of Remus again.

"Okay, Moony?" He asked eventually.

"Oh, yes."

"Not freaked out by scars and stuff anymore?"

"Sirius, right not I would not even be freaked out if Voldemort himself appeared through the curtains wearing a sparkly pink miniskirt and started belly dancing."

Sirius considered the image. "Got to be honest. That might throw me off my game a bit."

"Oh, Voldemort shmoldermort." Remus yawned. "I don't suppose I can prevail on you for a cleaning charm?"

"Prevail away, Moony, prevail away."

"I really do love you, you know."

Sirius paused, his wand in his hand, and looked down at Remus's contented form curled at his side; sleepy, warm and sated. "I love you, too, Remus."


	79. Operation Recreate Goblin Battles

**A Happy New Year treat to all of you who have waited so patiently for my intermittent updates. I will admit it was written under the influence of too much champagne and too little sleep, but my lovely beta has helped to ensure that it all comes together in the end. Enjoy!**

**Moonsign x**

**PS: Just Googled this fic for the first time. I had not realised it was so well known! Or so hated by a large portion of the wolfstar fandom! Or so in competition with 'Shoebox Project'. Why is that? I have every respect for the authors of that amazing fic, as well as the thousands of other wolfstar authors out there. Let's stick together and be nice to one another, eh? If you don't like my fic, don't read it. I won't be offended, okay? **

**PPS: Found a cute little blog called 'Moonshadow's Marauders'. You can write to Moonshadow's Marauders and they write back. Awesome (although a little unnerving. It's like my fic has grown legs and started walking on its own. My baby's all grown up!) **

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Sirius's and James's plan for their 'tutoring' sessions with the younger students involved surprisingly little maliciousness – even for the little, petrified Slytherin students who had been placed under their care. Remus had to make a concerted effort to curb their more ambitious plans, but saw no reason to put a limit on a bit of general chaos and mayhem – as long as it was in the interests of learning.

Their plan had been inspired by a bloke called Hayes Noel whom Peter had read about in a Muggle newspaper that Christmas. He'd invented a game which involved filling a Muggle gun with harmless paint balls and shooting them at people in a pretend battle. Not surprisingly, the potential for harmless, messy, violent fun could not be passed up by the Marauders and 'Operation Recreate Goblin Battles to Spite Binns' was born.

Remus couldn't quite remember how he'd become swept up in helping to transfigure 'goblin armour' or researching spells to 'make wands shoot painty-stuff'. He definitely didn't know how he had ended up being the one who had to plough through all the tedious history texts to 'pick out the cool bits and leave out the boring stuff', or how he'd managed to land the job of once again raiding Slughorn's potion stores for bitterwort, knotgrass and black chokeberry.

"You're all sneaky," Sirius had told him brightly. "And if he catches you, you're less likely to be expelled than James and me."

"I thought you were supposed to be nice to me. That's one of the rules of being in a relationship, you know."

"Rubbish. The only time my father is ever nice to my Mum is by accident." Sirius grinned and ruffled Remus's hair in an incredibly annoying and patronising way. "Besides, we both know that you're itching to do something a wee bit mischievous. Your inner Marauder starts kicking up a right old fuss when you're forced to be prefect-ly for too long, and you've had to be very good to keep Prongs and me under control over the past week."

Remus really couldn't deny this and Sirius knew it. It _was_ boring having to be the voice of reason all the time: "No, Sirius, transfiguring first years into real goblins is not an option"; "No, James, small bags of rocks are not as harmless as paint…yes, even when used on Slytherins"; "No, Peter, that potion is not meant to be edible. That is why your tongue is yellow and your ears have grown three feet. In a few minutes, when you find yourself farting green smoke, it'll hopefully teach you to ignore James Potter when he starts any sentence beginning with 'I bet you wouldn't…'."

Now, Remus found himself slipping as silently as he could into Slughorn's private office – a room that smelled eye-wateringly of ancient potions and potent herbs. He stopped outside the stock cupboard and raised his wand to whisper the lock-picking charm that was an essential part of any good Marauder's repertoire when there was a rustle of fabric behind him that would have been completely unnoticeable to anyone without werewolf hearing, and a wand pressed into his lower back.

Remus prepared himself to retaliate, knowing that even in this vulnerable position he could probably disarm the attacker before he had time to cast a spell.

"Well, well, Lupin. This _is_ interesting. My brother has to have put you up to it."

Remus sighed quietly and relaxed again. "Regulus." He turned, the tip of Regulus's wand not wavering so it traced a steady line round his waist until it pointed at his navel. "Does Slughorn know you make a practice of lurking around in his office in the dark?"

"He asked me to. What's your excuse?"

"I'm here for the view. He _asked _you to? That sounds a bit dodgy. Do you mind?" Remus looked pointedly at the wand that was still hovering worryingly close to parts of his body he was rather attached to.

Regulus flushed and backed away, muttering a quick _lumos_ charm so the two of them were flooded, blinkingly, with light. "You're in no position to lecture anyone about 'dodgy'. Besides, if I wasn't here, I wouldn't have caught you."

Remus could no more have resisted his inner Marauder than he could resist his need for air. "Really? Well now that you've caught me… what are you going to do with me?"

It was all in the tone of voice and Regulus flushed a shade of scarlet that even Peter at his most embarrassed would have been proud of and took another couple of steps back. "Shut up!"

"Seriously, though, Regulus," Remus said, taking pity on the boy, "why on earth would you agree to spending an incredibly uncomfortable night kipping in Slughorn's reeking office on the off-chance that someone might break in?"

"Lots of us do it," Regulus muttered. "We take turns. It's good to keep in his good books. He knows people and he can really help out once you leave school."

Remus sighed. "I thought your Black name and family fortune would take care of that."

"There's only so much money can do, you know, Lupin. I wouldn't expect you to understand – you're a popular, pampered Gryffindor. _You_ don't have to do anything to get ahead in this world."

There was something about the way he said it that made Remus pause. "Regulus? Is there something going on?"

"Oh, what do you care? Just sod off before I decide to report you." Regulus stalked over to Slughorn's desk chair and threw himself down into it.

"I do care," Remus said, pulling up the chair on the opposite side of the table. "And Sirius cares too, you know. If there's _anything_ bothering you, you can just –"

"Shut up! Just shutupshutupshut_up_! Stop acting like you _care_. And you don't know anything about me and Sirius! You have no _idea _what I have to..." He broke off, breathing hard. The hand still grasping his glowing wand was white knuckled.

"What you '_have'_ to?" Remus leant forward, heart hammering. "Is someone making you do something you don't want to, Regulus?"

Regulus's breath hitched and he actually bared his teeth in a move that was rather alarmingly like Sirius at his most doggish. The fingers of his right hand unclenched spasmodically from around his wand—which fell, still glowing, into his lap—then shifted across to scratch violently at his left forearm, digging into his flesh through the fabric of his robe. Remus's eyes followed the movement and something in his mind clicked – a memory from something he had read in the _Daily Prophet_ a few days ago: _It is rumoured that the followers of He Who Must Not Be Named are marked with a brand on the left arm…_

Without giving Regulus any warning, Remus launched himself wolf-quick across the table and dragged the left sleeve of his robe up. Regulus shrieked and struggled, fighting against him.

"Let me go, you freak! I swear to Merlin, Lupin, if you don't let me go –"

Remus let out a jagged breath, staring down at the skinny, pale arm in his grasp. It was free of Voldemort's mark, but what was there was almost worse. It was covered in scratches, gouges, scabs. It was as if Regulus had been trying to scrape the skin away from sinew and muscle with nails alone. From his inner wrist to the crook of his elbow, not an inch of skin was spared. The short, ragged nails of the hand that plucked uselessly at Remus's arm were tipped with dried blood.

"He hasn't marked you," Remus mumbled through numb lips.

"It's only a matter of time."

"It doesn't have to be."

"Oh, what do you know? Stupid, pampered, sheltered little Gryffindors. None of the rest of you know what it's like. None of the rest of you know _anything_. He's been recruiting for over a year. He doesn't take no for an answer."

"You c-could turn him down."

Regulus tossed his head scornfully, shaking off Remus's hand, yanking his sleeve down and curling his right hand over his left forearm protectively. "Stupid! What would I do then, hm? How long do you think I would last? Where would I go? My parents are _proud_ of me for joining."

"You c-c-could…"

"What? Beg protection from my poof of a brother? From his stuttering little half-blood boyfriend? You don't even know…I'm doing this to _protect_ him."

"No!" Remus gripped the arms of Regulus's chair and leaned right up into Regulus's face. "_I_ protect him. And I could p-protect you as well."

"You? Please! What could you do, Lupin? Everyone knows you're just this loopy, sickly little bloke who my brother is inexplicably attached to. One mention of the Dark Lord's name and you would be scuttling for the hills."

"Is that right?" Remus made a decision then. Took a risk – for Sirius and for Regulus who, even now, had started up scratching, scratching at his arm again. "You seem to think you know an awful lot, R-Regulus Black, but you don't."

He drew away from Regulus's chair and rose to his feet. Closing his eyes, he drew the wolf to the surface. He felt it fill his muscles, tighten his sinews, sharpen his bones, light fire in his blood. When he opened his eyes, he knew they reflected the pale light of Regulus's wand with golden intensity. Without looking away from Regulus's suddenly terrified face, he reached behind himself to pick up a small, sturdy pewter cauldron he's seen perched on Slughorn's table as he entered the room. He cupped it in both hands, then squeezed with all his might. It was a little harder than he expected – a well-made piece of potions equipment designed to withstand slapdash student potions – but after a few seconds, it started to buckle, then crumple.

Regulus's wide eyes were fixed in horror at the sight.

"Like I said," Remus said softly, wolf filling his voice with gravel and confidence, "I protect Sirius. And I could protect you, too."

"Who are you?" Regulus whispered, eyes fixed on the damaged cauldron. "_What_ are you?"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it bloody matters! You're shagging my brother!"

"I'm in love with your brother. I would never, ever do anything to deliberately hurt him, I swear on my magic."

That silenced Regulus. A vow made on one's own magic could not be taken lightly in any circumstance.

Remus closed his eyes and shoved the wolf back. It fought and he shuddered, clenching his fists and fighting, fighting, fighting back. When he opened them, Regulus was still staring at him, dark head cocked to the side.

"It hurts, doesn't it? Whatever is it that you are."

"Does it matter?" Remus asked again, suddenly exhausted.

"Of course it bloody matters." There was an ironic twist to Regulus's mouth. "You're shagging my brother."

Remus glimpsed, in that moment, what Sirius loved in Regulus. What would be lost to the dark should Voldemort brand him.

"I'll protect you."

"Cheers for the offer, Lupin, but you can't. While I'm at school, trapped in the dungeons wearing green and silver, there is nothing you can do. Besides," Regulus laughed hysterically, "it's too late. It's too late."

"What do you mean?"

Regulus just shook his head.

"I can't force you to accept my help," Remus said, when the silence got too much. "But you have it. Any time. Now, or after school, or in ten years' time. If you want to get away, find me and I'll help you."

"Forget it, Lupin. In ten years' time I'll not even be worthy of your help. Not with the things he'll have me doing. You just focus on protecting the good Black. You keep my brother safe."

"Regulus…"

"Bugger off, now, Lupin."

Remus hesitated, but Regulus's face was waxen-hard with resolve. He sighed and turned towards the door.

"Oi!"

He glanced back over his shoulder.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Regulus gestured to the potions cupboard and smirked, his face a younger, more haggard version of Sirius at his most wicked. Remus thought his heart might break. He smirked back, because it was all he could do.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The worst thing was Sirius was not surprised. When Remus related the conversation at break time the next day, Sirius leaned back against the beech tree they were seated under and stared out over the lake, mouth tight, but his expression composed.

"Well?" said Remus. "What do we do?"

"Nothing," Sirius said shortly.

"But we –"

"I said 'nothing', Remus."

Remus ducked his head at the tone, fingers digging into the grass and crushing the fragile stems.

"Moony." Sirius touched the back of his hand.

"Don't, Sirius," Remus snapped, yanking his hand away.

"You don't understand."

"You're right – I don't! I don't understand why you're willing to just sit by while your brother goes out and sells his soul to Voldemort."

"Because there's nothing we can do!" Sirius was breathing rapidly through his nose, visibly straining to keep his temper. "Listen – we're just teenagers. You're naïve if you think Dumbledore doesn't know that Voldemort's recruiting at Hogwarts. Everyone knows - _everyone -_ and there is nothing we can do about it. If the families of the students support him, that's all there is to it. To be honest, I'm surprised Reg hasn't been marked already."

Remus felt helpless frustration rise in him and curled his hands further into fists. "But they're children!"

"And this is war, Moony. No one is spared from that."

Out on the lake, a large black tentacle emerged lazily to wave in the air, before it slipped wetly back beneath the surface again. Remus watched the ripples spread out in rings, jarring the still surface.

"I told him I would help him anytime he wanted to back out," he said eventually.

Sirius sighed. "It's a nice thought, babe, but I'm not sure there'll be much left to save."

His words were so close to Regulus's that Remus felt a tremor of unease run down his spine.

"He's your brother!"

"And you testified to put your own father into Azkaban."

Remus flinched back, feeling as though Sirius had slapped him. "Th-that was different! He…h-h-he…"

"Moony, Moony…" Sirius reached out to cup the back of Remus's head with a gentle hand, a gesture that could pass as friendship to anyone happening to look their way. "I'm not saying you were wrong. In fact, I always thought you were bloody brilliant to do it – brave and strong and smart. But you know as well as me that there are some things a person can't come back from. There are some things a person can't be forgiven for, even if they're family. In your dad's case it was child abuse. The things Voldemort will make Regulus do…"

Sirius's grey eyes were slate-cold and haunted. His fingers tightened unconsciously in Remus's hair.

"Merlin, Moony, you don't know the half of it. Abuse will be a footnote in a long list of horrors I don't even want to think about. Torture, rape, murder…" He took a shaky breath. "He'll having him casting three Unforgivables before breakfast, treating Muggles as animals, murdering people in their beds, turning loved ones against each other. And the kind of dark magic he'll be using changes people. And I'm not just talking mentally. I mean emotionally, magically, physically. If you carry out your promise five years from now, the thing that you save won't be my brother anymore."

"How can you even claim to know this?" Remus asked numbly. "What do you know about it?"

"Remus, I'm a Gryffindor, but my family has been dark for generations. Some of the things my ancestors did were so dark and twisted that even thinking about them makes me feel contaminated. When I was younger, my Mum made me study our family history down to its last sick, filthy detail and if there was anything I could scrub from my mind forever, it would be that knowledge."

"How are we meant to fight against something like that?"

"Tooth and nail, Moony. Tooth and nail and bone and blood and whatever else we have to use to do it because to let the Wizarding world fall under the control of someone like Voldemort…" He shuddered. "We can't. We just can't. So we have to fight, okay?"

"Okay, Padfoot." Remus shifted closer, until Sirius's hand fell from his hair and their shoulders were pressed together.

Beneath the calm surface of the lake, the dark shadow of the Giant Squid moved towards the light, then sank again, disappearing from sight.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The armies faced one another across the Quidditch pitch. Each side had swollen in ranks since the news of the battle plans had spread. Now sixty-eight small figures stood poised, each side containing a mix of each of the four houses. In the stands, dozens of students from other years were perched, news having spread that that the Marauders had been given permission to use first years to create havoc and mayhem in the interests of education. The teachers had allowed it on condition that they did not interfere. Remus had a suspicion that they were hoping that some of the 'education' might rub off on them as well.

"King Borgrog the Bearded's battalion, don your armour!" Sirius's magnified voice rolled out over the field. He stood in front of his little army, looking surprisingly grim and menacing for someone who had stuck rubber goblin ears to his helmet and a green false goatee to his chin.

His 'army' clattered around as they struggled into their mismatched armour. Remus smiled from his judge's position atop the Ravenclaw stands before raising his wand to his throat and muttering "_Sonorous!_" then, "Andrew Withick! Kindly remove or re-transfigure that 'Rockin' Dragons' breastplate! Only genuine goblin armour from between the years 1642 to 1680 allowed!"

A small, darkhaired Ravenclaw guiltily looked towards him and pointed his wand at his chest, muttering a spell. His breastplate shimmered, then turned to burnished copper and silver, decorated with a complicated goblin-style design which Remus pretended not to notice resembled a stylised 'RD'. You had to give the kid points for creativity and inventiveness.

"King Volbig the Vicious's battalion, don your armour!" James's magnified voice echoed from the opposite side of the pitch. He looked even more ridiculous than Sirius. He had 'borrowed' an antique horned helmet from one of the suits of armour in the castle, but it was a little too big and the only thing that kept it from dropping down and resting on his shoulders were his ears. He had attached goblin-syle spikes to his glasses in the mistaken belief that they made him look sinister.

There was clatter from his little army in turn as armour and helmets were pulled on.

"Right, Judge Lupin," Sirius called, gesturing up to him with a rather crazed grin. "A reminder of the rules, please!"

"Are you sure he can?" called a fifth year Slytherin girl from the stands opposite. "I heard he couldn't string more than ten words together at a time without having to go for a lie down to recover."

Her words were met with sniggers from all quarters. Outside of the Marauders, Remus wasn't known for being particularly verbose. It had started out as shyness and embarrassment about his stutter, but now that it was more or less under control most of the time, it was just a habit. He saw Sirius's shoulders stiffen and shot a glare at the other boy. The last thing they needed was this thing to end before it started.

Remus turned to look at the girl and narrowed his eyes. "Kindly remember that the use of the _sonorous_ charm is banned to all audience members, McDoland," he said. "And I also request that you keep your opinions to yourself until you are able to string two thoughts together without having to go and have a lie down." The stands erupted in laughter and the girl sunk back in her seat scowling. Remus unrolled the piece of parchment he had clenched in his hand and held up his wand to his throat again. "Right everyone. Rule number one – No interference of any sort from anyone in the audience.

"Rule number two – All armour and transfigured weapons have to be in the style of the era. Anyone found breaking this rule will be disqualified.

"Rule number three – you have all practised the paint-shooting spell with your wand. If you have been 'fatally hit' with paint, you will start to glow and will need to leave the field. Every enemy goblin you kill is worth ten points.

"Rule number four – you have been discussing battle tactics with your fellow soldiers for the last couple of weeks. Please remember that the only tactics allowed to be used are ones that were actually used in the Goblin Wars between 1642 and 1680. You get an added fifty points for every tactic that you use and another twenty if the tactic is successful. Remember that if anyone is genuinely hurt by your side, you lose fifty points for your team. Any questions?"

"No, Judge Lupin," chorused sixty-eight little voices and two larger ones.

"Anything to add from Judge Evans?" He called across to Lily who was seated at the opposite side of the stadium. She shook her head, obviously trying her best not to look amused. "Right. Remember – the aim of the game is to see who can get to Princess Sordrella the Sort-of-Attractive first and bring her back to their barracks. Princess Sordrella – give us a wave, mate!"

Peter, fuming but resigned, and dressed in a monstrously frilly grey-green concoction of the kind that was popular among goblin maidens in the 1600s, gave a reluctant wave from his perch high up on the platform in the middle of the field. His nose, beneath the tangled green wig, had been powdered grey and decorated with a gnarled looking fake beauty-boil. A chorus of mocking cheers and wolf whistles rose from the audience.

"Okay everyone!" Remus yelled. "Take your marks…get set…ATTACK!"

What followed was the kind of controlled chaos you can only get with four Marauders at the helm. The two little armies ran towards one another screaming goblin curses and battle cries with a gusto that made all Sirius's and James's hours spent in the library armed with a Gobbledegook-to-English dictionary worthwhile. Arcs of purple and orange paint rose out of the melee and after a few moments, glowing, sulky-looking little goblins could be seen stalking towards the Afterlife Tent at the end of the field.

To most people, what was going on in the field looked a lot like a heaving wave of childish paint-fuelled violence. Remus (along with an incredibly reluctant Lily) had, however, conducted a detailed study of goblin war tactics, and he was able to pick out moments when smaller groups of students broke away to employ the Ridgeback Pincer Attack of 1652 or The Underestimated Scarlet Underwear Stealth Operation of 1665. With a tap of their wands to two small charmed buttons on the tables in front of them, the two judges were able to update the points of each side so they appeared above the stands where Quidditch scores were usually displayed. They had roped in Frank Longbottom and Stephen Douglas to count dead people as they arrived in the Afterlife Tent and update the scores there as well.

It was about twenty minutes into the battle before two muddy-looking goblins from James's army managed to launch themselves monkey-like at Peter's platform. The reasons why the red underpants they were wearing on their heads counted as historically accurate battle gear were best left, to Remus's mind, undisclosed. They scurried up the platform, ducking away from the arcs of paint aimed at them, but were soon being followed by three from Sirius's side. The audience cheered and booed as one of the underpants-clad goblins grabbed Princess Sordrella's hand and began yanking her down the platform. They had nearly reached the bottom when an arc of orange paint flew through the air and hit the little goblin square in the chest. He immediately began glowing and reluctantly abandoned the princess to stalk towards the Afterlife Tent. The audience cheered and booed, their reactions varying depending on where they had placed their money in the not-entirely-legal betting pools that had sprung up amongst the older students.

Sirius's young goblins, who had, as part of the Calculated Cucumber Confabulating Manoeuvre of 1670, strapped vegetables to their knees and elbows, seized on the chance to recapture Princess Sordrella and began dragging her towards their barracks. Princess Sordrella looked fairly murderous, but followed along agreeably enough, safe in the knowledge that every history essay for the rest of sixth year would be written by someone else.

This march towards victory, however, was disrupted by a clever reconstruction of the Twin Tortoise and Toothpicks Tactic that was masterfully executed by a couple of Ravenclaw and Slytherin goblins from James's side. While the ex-victors lay kicking and bellowing on their backs, unable to right themselves, James's goblins began herding Princess Sordella back towards their barracks.

The battle raged back and forth for another thirty minutes, the numbers of students on the field rapidly dwindling until at last only six of James's and four of Sirius's students were remaining. James and Sirius, in their role as King-Generals of their army, bellowed instructions which mostly went ignored as Sirius's goblins made a break for their barracks with Princess Sordrella (who was now beginning to wheeze asthmatically) in tow. They lost another two goblins to shots in the back, but James's goblins were just too far away to prevent them from making that final dive into their barracks.

The stands erupted in cheers as the numbers on the points boards rocketed up. They erupted even further when it became clear that even though Sirius's side had been the ones to successfully capture the princess, it was James's side who had achieved more points by a small margin.

"I swear it was because of the Bowed Winkle Battle Manoeuvre they used in those first ten minutes," Remus overheard a third-year Ravenclaw say self-importantly to his clearly disappointed friend. "Otherwise your lads would have won hands down. Here, have a chocolate frog."

"We would have won if the Overthere Feint had worked," his friend said sulkily.

"I hate to break it to you mate, but no one over the age of three has fallen for the 'Look over there!' thing since wizardkind crawled out of enchanted caves dragging club wands and communicating with the word 'Ug'. It didn't work in the original goblin battle either."

"Well, well, Mr. Lupin," a voice said, making Remus jump and turn his attention away from the bickering students. He looked up to see Professor McGonagall lifting the hem of her skirt primly as she picked her way across the Ravenclaw stands towards him. "This event has certainly been…interesting."

"Well," he shrugged, looking down at the pitch, which had gone from battle-chaos to half-heartedly-cleaning-up chaos with James and Sirius still playing the role of generals. "It'll be cleared away. And I assure you that if any of those students down there sit the first year history paper for work covered over the autumn and winter terms they will all pass. Some of the more violent and inventive ones might even get full marks."

"It's certainly an unexpected sort of teaching method, but I can't argue with results," Professor McGonagall agreed, and there was no mistaking the Dumbledoresque twinkle in her eye.

Remus felt his lips twitch in return. "Did you know that most of those kids actually volunteered for history tutoring?"

"I had heard something to that effect, yes. I have also noticed a remarkable decrease in the level of pranks and general anarchy around the school since Potter and Black have taken up their tutoring role."

Remus widened his eyes innocently. "Well, of course, Professor. You have to keep those first years busy or they get up to all sorts of mischief."

Her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline, but Remus had been a Marauder for years now and his expression never wavered. Eventually she shook her head and turned to look out over the field. "I sometimes wonder, Lupin, if you are not the worst of them all."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're eluding to, Professor. I am a model student. Ask any of my teachers."

"Hey Moony-baboony!" Sirius yelled up from the pitch, voice magnified. Both Remus and McGonagall winced at the volume. "Get your arse down here and give us a hand with the clean-up, yeah?"

"Moony-baboony," Professor McGonagall repeated, completely straight-faced.

"It's my spy-name," Remus said, equally sober.

"I see. Very subtle."

Remus pursed his lips and turned his eyes to the sky.

"Well," she straightened and treated him to a curt nod. "Do carry on, Mr. Lupin."

"Will do, Professor."

She left and Remus let out a gust of breath. "Right then," he said. He turned towards the chaos and girded his loins. "Right then."


	80. Blood Moon

**Blood Moon**

Teachers, Sirius decided, were probably given a helpful little list as part of their training. On this list was a range of suggestions for how to torture students in subtle and almost undetectable ways when teachers felt the need to take out the frustrations of their insane career choice on helpless victims. They were creative, cruel and devious – the kinds of ideas that can only have been thought up by an exhaustion-crazed professor at four A.M. when the piles of marking are teetering on the desk, none of the lessons are planned for the next day, and the headmaster is due to observe a class first thing the next morning.

Most of the list was probably too wily and twisted for Sirius to ever be able to figure out unless, by some appalling turn of events, he one day made the life choice to become a teacher himself (and he would hope that Prongs or Moony would have the decency to carry out a mercy-killing if that ever happened), but he believed that he had managed to work out at least some of the entries over the years:

**Teacher's Guide on How to Torture Students in Subtle and Undetectable Ways that Won't Get You Fired**

1. Timing vital tests on the Monday after a Hogsmeade weekend so all joy is sucked from the outing through black holes of revision-guilt and exam nerves.

2. Arranging for sex ed to be taught by Dumbledore, who seems to take far too much delight in outlining the graphic details and using phrases such as 'beautiful and natural expression of love' and 'doing the naughty, broom-closet waltz' (which for some reason sounds so much more vulgar and suggestive than the more common phrase 'horizontal tango').

3. Arranging matters so that at least one third of standard school earmuffs provided by the Herbology department are fluffy, glittery, pink (and occasionally decorated with small but enormously tacky little tiaras on the top), so that students are forced to engage in fistfights to avoid being made to wear them, resulting in the stressed teacher being able to assign as many dreadful and demeaning detentions as they like without being told off for unfairly punishing children for their own career choice.

4. Setting out a fantastic, mouth-watering feast that rests warm and fragrant on the House tables, then banning students from eating it for half an hour while start-of-term notices are given out and new entries are added to The List of Items that Are Banned from Everyone, and Particularly from Anyone Answering to the Title of 'Marauder'.

5. Inventing Arithmancy, introducing it as a subject, and then making it compulsory for anyone wanting to work in the Ministry once they graduate.

6. Giving students the task of mucking out dugbog swamps in the rain as a Care of Magical Creatures assignment

7. Assigning students partners or groups to work with rather than allowing them to choose their own.

There were others, Sirius was sure, but these were the ones that had scarred him most profoundly in recent years. Item number 7 was currently being implemented with an unseemly amount of relish by Professsor Slughorn, who had inflicted 'working-with-someone-you-don't-usually-work-with' on the sixth year Slytherin and Gryffindor Potions class. To add insult to injury, he then _assigned_ them new partners.

James had been partnered with the incredibly large Slytherin girl, Ethel Bulstrode, who cut and ground potions ingredients as if she had a personal vendetta against them, her large biceps flexing as pestle met mortar with great violence. Only James's quick reflexes prevented him from getting his elbow pulverized and little finger chopped off along with the sticks of black spleenwort.

Sirius was paired with Evan Rosier, who was loud, snotty, opinionated, and clearly considered himself superior to the disgraced Black heir. He declared himself above reading instructions and flung potions ingredients into the cauldron with abandon. What was even more annoying was that he was usually fairly accurate, and lorded this fact over Sirius at every opportunity. Sirius had abandoned all efforts to help and had spent a productive half hour charming the Slytherin's astrology essay to read as a soppy love letter to McGonagall to anyone who wasn't Rosier, planted a time-activated dung bomb in his bookbag, and stuck a notice to the back of his robe reading, 'Please excuse my monstrous ears. I am a victim of inbreeding.' He was just getting warmed up.

Peter, the lucky bugger, had failed to get onto the sixth year Potions course, so he had escaped the trauma, but Remus had managed to squeak through by the skin of his teeth, despite the fact that most of his potions resulted in something more closely resembling malevolent soup. The only thing that made Sirius feel anything less than hatred for Slughorn was the fact that the fat professor had paired Remus with Frank Longbottom a couple of desks ahead of Sirius. The full moon was due that night, and Remus was suffering even more than usual. Being paired with a Slytherin been one step too far and might possibly have resulted in a feral Remus and a couple of rivers of snake-blood (something, Lily had assured him, was standard practise for revenge-bent werewolves, although she wouldn't tell him where she got the idea).

Sirius had assumed that since it would be the full moon eclipse that night – Blood Moon, which meant that Remus got to keep his human mind – the transformation would be easier. He was wrong. Apparently, Remus's human mind didn't have the same capacity for tolerating extreme pain that Moony's did, so when the early sign of the physical transformation began to affect his human body without the mental one, the exhaustion and pain were acute and enhanced.

Right now, Remus was slumped forward on the desk fast asleep, Hamish curled up next to his cheek in the crook of his arm. Frank had nudged Remus's arms and head as far to the side as he could and was carefully chopping ingredients in the little space he had left. Sirius kept half an eye on them as he silently charmed a boil to a sensitive part of Rosier's anatomy. They had been told to practice their unspoken spells for homework by Professor Flitwick, so inflicting uncomfortable and disfiguring eruptions on the Slytherin's most private areas was practically compulsory.

The lesson dragged by, and the only consolation was the warming knowledge that Rosier was going to be having an extremely uncomfortable couple of days.

It seemed like whole _years_ had passed before Slughorn clapped his hands and announced that it was time to bottle their potions and bring them to the front of the classroom. Sirius let out an explosive sigh and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his palms over his eyes.

"I'm not putting your name on this, Black," Rosier informed him, kicking him in the shin with a pointy-toed boot. "You didn't do anything."

"You didn't give me a chance," Sirius snipped back, without opening his eyes. The lingering guilt he'd felt over the last, particularly wicked, hex he'd cast melted away at the sound of Rosier's nasal tones.

He heard the Slytherin stalking up to the front of the classroom with a small stagger in his step and smiled.

"Oi, Sirius! James!"

He opened his eyes to see Frank beckoning him over to their table.

"I believe this belongs to you." He pointed his potions spoon at Remus who had managed to remain asleep even through the end-of-lesson commotion. Remus's mouth was open and he was drooling into Hamish's fur. He had fallen asleep in a small puddle of pondweed, which was now streaked in his hair.

"Yuck," said Sirius.

"Hey," Frank said, trying to clean up around the sleeping werewolf. "Don't look at me. He was a completely useless partner. I think I was very understanding." He peered at Remus's sleeping face. "He looks a bit rough, though. Another flare-up?"

Sirius nodded. "You know Remus. Comes and goes."

"Looks worse than usual."

"Yeah. We'll get him to Pomfrey pronto. Hey Prongs! Give us a hand." He looked at Frank. "Best stand back a bit, mate."

Frank eyed him suspiciously. "Why?"

"You know our school motto?"

"_Draco dormiens nun-_wotsit_ titi…_er_…_something or other – 'Never tickle a sleeping dragon', right?"

"Close enough," Sirius said with a small wince, having been drilled in Latin from a young age. "Well, the same thing applies to sleeping Moonys. Watch this."

Sirius reached out to gently shake Remus's shoulder. Then he leapt back. Almost faster than he could see, Remus's wand was out and a stinging hex was shooting into the space where Sirius had been standing moments before. It left a small section of the wall smoking. Remus hadn't even opened his eyes, although his arm had tightened protectively around the hedgehog curled against him.

"Good Godric!" Frank said, eyes wide.

"Comes of living in a Marauder dorm," James explained, wandering over. "Keeps you on your toes. Up and at 'em, Moony."

Remus opened his eyes and blinked up at them blearily. "Ow," he said with great feeling.

"You look proper rough, mate," James told him.

"Oh, shut up." Remus pushed himself up from his slump. "Is Charms over?"

"We're in Potions, Moony." Sirius touched a hand to Remus's forehead. The werewolf was burning up.

"Potions. Right. Hence the smell. What _is_ that smell?"

"Pondweed," Frank said helpfully. "In your hair."

"Lovely. Oh _God_ ow…"

Sirius picked up Hamish off the desk and dropped him gently into his robe pocket. Then he crouched and inserted his shoulder beneath Remus's armpit and stood up, hauling the other boy with him. Remus's head lolled against his shoulder and James hurried over to support his other side.

"Mr. Lupin?" Slughorn was hurrying over, his round face etched with worry. "What potion did you take?"

"It's not a potion, sir," Frank reassured him. "Just his normal…thing. Whatever it is."

"Oh. Oh!" Slughorn glanced to the ceiling as if he could see through to the sky outside. "Right. Well, off to the Hospital Wing with him, lads," he said to James and Sirius.

"Still got Ancient Runes," Remus mumbled, struggling to hold his head off Sirius's shoulder.

"Yeah, right," Sirius scoffed. "I'll get Evans to take notes for you. You're coming straight to the Hospital Wing."

"But…"

"Put a sock in it, Moony," James said fondly.

Remus obeyed, though whether this was true acquiescence or just the fact that he was too worn out to speak any more, Sirius couldn't tell.

"What's the point of Blood Moon if it does this to you?" Sirius muttered as he and James staggered down the corridor with Remus between them. "I thought it was going to make things better."

"It will," Remus said. "Tonight it will. Just need to get used to the pain. By this time Moony's usually really close to the surface. Human-me is a bit of a wuss."

Sirius could feel the way every one of Remus's muscles was stretching and twitching in preparation for the transformation. He was iron-hot through his robes and damp with sweat.

"Nonsense," James said, echoing Sirius's thoughts. "Human-you is just as hardcore as wolf-you. Here we are."

They hauled him into Hospital Wing, where Madame Promfrey was bent over a Hufflepuff girl who appeared to be suffering from an acute case of acid-green acne. She looked up and frowned when she spotted the three Marauders.

"Oh - Remus! Shift him to that bed there, boys."

James and Sirius dragged Remus over to the bed and helped him in. James yanked off his shoes as Sirius untangled Remus's arms from around his shoulders.

"That's it, Moony," he murmured. "Have a sleep, yeah? I'll bring you some of that chocolate fudge pudding later." He glanced up to make sure Madame Pomfrey was still bent over the sobbing Hufflepuff, then leaned down to drop a kiss on Remus's damp temple. "Love you," he whispered, before pulling away.

"Alright, Padfoot?" James asked, as they made their way out of the Hospital Wing again.

"Hm? Oh. Yeah."

"No, you're not. If that was Lily…"

Sirius shook his head, turning his head away from James to glance out one of the corridor windows. The late afternoon sunlight was dusty gold. "It is what it is."

"Yeah." James clapped him on the shoulder. "But _it_ is a right bugger. Wish we could do more."

"One day," Sirius said fiercely, "we will."

"Too right, mate."

The sun sank a little lower in the sky.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Madame Pomfrey stayed in the Shack with Remus much longer than she usually did before the full. The other three Marauders hung around outside buzzing with impatience. The sun was almost completely set before her motherly figure emerged from beneath the Whomping Willow and headed back towards the school.

They hurried up the tunnel to the Shack, barely stumbling in the dark, having long ago mapped out the pitfalls and turns. Remus, when they arrived in the upstairs room, was curled under a ragged blanket on the bed, his breathing shaky and shallow. Sirius, James, and Peter knew better than to approach him this close to the moon. The violent spasms his body was sent into during the transformation had knocked one or other of them across the room more than once.

The peach-coloured shaft of setting sunlight that slanted across the stained floor gradually faded to indigo, then black. The black shimmered, silvered, then crept across the floor to the bed where Remus lay tense, his harsh breaths sounding like a mixture between panting and coughs. Moonlight brushed across the blanket and touched the back of his neck.

Remus screamed.

It was something Sirius knew he would never get used to as long as he lived – the cracking bones, stretching, splitting skin, excruciating needle-point pricks of sprouting fur, and the screaming…Merlin, the_ screaming_. Sometimes he swore there was a little part of his brain that never stopped hearing it. Even when he and Remus were sitting on soft grass at midday, as far from the full moon as it was possible to be, there was some part of Sirius that was haunted by the endless, agonising memory of that screaming.

This night it was the same, and it was different. In a way, the most heart-breaking thing about Remus's transformation was seeing him lose his mind to the wolf. The idea that something could so easily eclipse Remus's boyishness and wit, his intelligence and love of learning, his deep empathy for people in pain…every time Sirius witnessed it, it was too horrific to comprehend. Seeing Remus undergo the physical transformation with such _human_ agony in his eyes was both a relief and almost too distressing to bear.

The scream seemed to last longer than usual. It didn't transform into a howl until Moony's canine throat could no longer form such a human noise. Then it stopped.

The wolf lay curled and panting on the bed for a few minutes while the other Marauders waited for a reaction. Usually Moony was up and pacing, biting, sniffing in seconds. Eventually, Sirius padded over to the bed and nudged Moony's back with Padfoot's wet nose. Slowly, the wolf's head rose, and Remus's amber eyes peered at him over his shoulder.

Remus's eyes, not Moony's, which were gold and feral and vicious.

Sirius switched from dog to human without even thinking about it. "Moony! You're still you!"

The wolf reared back from Sirius, eyes wide and horrified.

"Are you insane?" James demanded from the other side of the room. "Change back, you idiot! You'll still smell like a meal to him, even with a human brain."

But Sirius didn't change back. And slowly, slowly, Moony relaxed. He rolled over on the bed and studied Sirius with Remus's intelligent gaze.

"Do I smell like food?" Sirius asked.

Moony huffed a canine laugh and nodded, then shook his head, then did something complicated with his shoulders that Sirius suspected was meant to be a shrug.

"You want me to change back?"

Slowly, he shook his head.

"So what do you want?"

Another long pause, then Moony batted Sirius's hand where it rested on the bed. Sirius mind flashed up a distant memory of chatting about having his ears scratched as Padfoot. He remembered Remus's expression when he mentioned that Moony had never had anyone do that for him. Hardly daring to breathe, Sirius reached out and touched the top of the wolf's head, trying to ignore the large, sharp teeth inches away and the way his heart was hammering in almost-fear. Moony pressed his head more firmly against Sirius's hand and he felt his nerves settle.

"You like that, huh? I told you being scratched behind the ears was addictive." He moved his hand to demonstrate, sinking his fingers into Moony's thick ruff, with its wiry overcoat and soft undercoat. "Look at you, Moony - Merlin!"

Sirius had never seen Remus in colour before. For some reason, he had always imagined him to be grey, as he appeared through Padfoot's eyes. He wasn't. He was a lovely, lustrous tawny, flecked with gold and brown like Remus's hair.

Moony shifted closer, eyes half-closed in surprise and enjoyment, and Sirius jumped when a large pink tongue flicked up to lick his wrist.

"Yuck!"

The expression in Remus's eyes indicated that this was a fair revenge for the many times Padfoot's slobber had invaded his personal space.

"Is this all we're going to do?" James demanded, from where he and Peter were now human and standing a few feet away. "Hang out here while you pat Moony and tell him he's a good dog?"

"Aw, let them alone, Prongs," Peter said. "Moony's the calmest he's ever been. And he hasn't tried to chase me under the bed once."

Remus shot him an apologetic look over Sirius's shoulder.

"S'alright, mate," Peter assured him. "It's not _mean_ chasing. Moony just likes hearing me squeak in disgust when he licks me."

Moony's face lit up with a canine grin – all lolling tongue and white teeth. Before Sirius could react, he launched himself at Peter, who squeaked in terror, went rat, and escaped under the bed. James and Sirius collapsed with laughter as Moony crouched, behind in the air and tail wagging, trying to spot Wormtail in the shadows.

There was a rustling sound and a dusty cough, then Peter's muffled voice saying, "No fair, Remus! You scared the podge off of me."

Moony huffed an approximation of a laugh, bouncing back on nimble paws... and into a puddle of moonlight that streamed in through the window. He froze, muzzle rising, eyes fixed on the night sky. The light was dimmer than usual, and when Sirius followed his gaze to look at the moon, it didn't look full. There was a chunk out of it, right at the edge: the start of the eclipse.

Sirius had done a lot of reading about Blood Moon in the last few weeks. He knew that even though the eclipse itself only occurred for part of the night, Merlin's magic was strong enough that a werewolf kept its human mind throughout the night. He also knew that, although a lunar eclipse occurred a couple of times a year, a full lunar eclipse was rare. And it was only once the moon was fully eclipsed that it turned blood-red – the visible sacrifice of a thousand werewolves' blood protecting their kind from the feral effects of their animal counterparts.

Part of Sirius wanted to stay and watch the rare event, but he recognised the tension in Moony's muscles immediately and blurred back into Padfoot.

_Want out, Moony? _He questioned in the clumsy canine way. _Want run? Want moon? Want wind?_

_Out, _Moony agreed, head nodding in human agreement. _Out in trees, in moonglow, with pack, and run, run, run._

_Run, yes, run._ The urge seized Sirius just as it did Remus. The two of them launched themselves out of the room and down the rickety stairs, accompanied by started exclamations of James and Peter, and a few seconds later the unmistakable sound of Prongs getting his prongs caught on the doorframe as he hurried to follow.

They burst into the open without pausing, loping canine paws eating up ground effortlessly, nipping at one another's legs and stretching the run into a race that Moony was always going to win. Prongs gained on them soon after, powerful muscles bunching beneath sleek fur, cloven hooves sure and quick on rough, moon-drenched ground. Wormtail clung to his antlers, squeaking excitedly.

It wasn't long before they entered the Forbidden Forest, following the track worn over the course of many moons. It was clear that Remus was enjoying the freedom, speed, and power of the wolf's body under human control and he flitted ahead of Sirius, in and out of trees like a living moon shadow.

_Moony, wait! _

Remus glanced over his shoulder and slowed, then stopped, his attention caught by something to his left. He trotted over and was peering down at it as Sirius, James, and Peter caught up.

Sirius padded to his side and realised he was staring down into a small pool of water – a still pond that was fed by an underground spring beneath it. They had occasionally stopped here for a drink during other moons, but right now, Remus appeared to just be staring down into it.

_What look, Moony? _Sirius asked.

_Look: Moony! Look. _

Sirius leant forward and saw his own reflection appear in the still water beside Moony's. It took him a few moments to process the fact that Remus was staring at his own reflection, seeing himself for the first time clearly through the wolf's eyes. High above them, the moon was also reflected, now the rust-red of old blood – fully eclipsed.

Sirius touched his muzzle to Remus's ear and huffed into it affectionately. He wished the canine language had more words to describe what he wanted to say, to react to the wonder he could see in Remus's wide eyes. He wished canine eyes could see the rich tawny colour of Moony's ruff, the amber of Remus's human eyes staring from a feral face. He wished canine mouths were capable of human kisses, capable of whispering the words "I love you" into canine ears.

He settled for nipping at Moony's flank, dodging the playful retaliation, chasing his mate's darting shape into the shadows of the forbidden forest.

They ran for hours, Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail tiring long before Moony did. Remus's joy seemed to be buoying the wolf to new levels of energy and Sirius knew he would be feeling the effect in his muscles all of the following day.

It had to have been an hour or two after midnight when it all went wrong. Remus was loping a fair way ahead of him on a small forest track, heading toward a clearing they knew to be just up ahead. Sirius saw him break through the last of the trees just as some instinct – something gained from years of growing up in a house steeped in dark magic – sent up a warning signal in Sirius's mind.

There was a human shout of surprise, a flash of red light, and a deep canine growl followed by a high-pitched yelp of shock and pain. Remus was out of sight, hidden by the trees. Sirius skidded to a halt, transformed more quickly than he ever had before, and grabbed Prong's antlers as the stag rushed past him.

"Let go!" James snapped, transforming so quickly Sirius was left with a fistful of messy black hair. "Moony's in trouble!"

"Shut up," Sirius hissed. "We'll do no good to him if we get caught. That's dark magic in there."

His heart was hammering in shock and horror. He could barely think around his fear for Remus. The only thing keeping his mind on track was the knowledge that they were all Remus had right now.

"Transform back and follow me," he hissed to James and Peter, stepping off the narrow track and into the shadows of the trees, switching back to Padfoot as he did.

Luckily, the Marauders had been practising stealth for six years now, and were helped by the natural instincts of their animal forms. They crept, unseen, to the edge of the clearing and peered out. The sight before them was like a scene from Sirius's worst nightmares. The first thing he saw was two wolves grappling in the middle of the clearing surrounded by three wizards in Death Eater robes. One was clearly Moony, the familiar shape of his rangy body dwarfed by the wolf he was fighting. That wolf was almost grotesquely huge. Its fur looked coarser and shabbier than Remus's, its ears were tattered and veined with scar tissue, its large, gaping maw housed rows of off-colour teeth that looked too big even for a werewolf's mouth. There was no mistaking the twisted face, the lustful, blood-hungry eyes, even though Sirius had never seen him in wolf-form before.

Greyback.

Remus never stood a chance. Sirius crouched poised at the edge of the clearing, knowing that it was suicidal and stupid to just launch in there, but willing to do it if he had to.

But there was a huge, hovering cage off to one side of the clearing housing a huddled mass of dark shapes, moonlight reflecting off canine eyes. Sirius was sure that the Death Eaters wanted Remus alive and his quick mind was putting together facts one after another, even as a large portion was paralysed with mind-numbing worry and fear.

He knew Voldemort had been campaigning for years now to recruit werewolves. Full lunar eclipses were extremely rare, and also the only time that the vicious animal would be locked away in a transformed werewolf's mind, leaving a high-strung human in charge of an unfamiliar body. If Voldemort wasn't able to persuade enough werewolves to join him, his next plan was clearly to kidnap as many as he could at a time when they were most vulnerable, imprison them, and then force them to do his bidding – through the Imperius curse perhaps, or something similar that worked on transformed werewolves.

It only took a few seconds for it all to run through Sirius's mind, and in that time Remus was pinned beneath Greyback's massive bulk and stunned by three simultaneous blasts from the hooded Death Eaters' wands. They were clearly aware that stunners were fairly ineffective on a transformed werewolf and Remus was stirring, even as he was magically lifted and tossed into the cage.

Peter was chittering in terror from where he was crouched between Sirius's paws, and when Sirius turned his head to meet Prongs's eyes, he could see the fear in them that reflected his own.

"I can't believe it was so close to Hogwarts," one of the Death Eaters was saying in the clearing. "Everyone knows Dumbledore is obsessive about keeping the school warded. How could he let one get so close?"

One of the other Death Eaters shrugged. "Greyback knew it would be here. We were only going to do a sweep of the west side of the forest but he insisted." He nodded to the massive werewolf who crouched at their side, tongue lolling, the tips of his teeth tinted with blood.

"Well, we're lucky it wasn't closer to the school. This is the last clearing we could get to before hitting the wards. Come on. Let's get on back. Being this close to Dumbledore's domain is making me twitchy. The portkey will be leaving from base in at dawn."

Sirius heard a rustle of undergrowth and fabric beside him and suddenly it was James crouched beside him in place of Prongs. "What're we going to do?" he hissed. "We can't take 'em on, but we can't leave Moony!"

Sirius's mind was rushing more quickly than it ever had in his life. He transformed back, a plan slotting into place even as he did. "Me and Pete'll stay with him," he whispered. "We'll follow them when they go. You go back to Hogwarts for help. Prongs is wicked fast through the trees at top speed. Don't stop for anything."

"Are you insane?" Peter hissed. "What if we get caught?"

"Can either of you think of a better plan?"

There was a brief silence, then James sighed and shook his head. "No. Merlin's balls, I wish we had the invisibility cloak with us. D'you have the knife?"

Sirius nodded and patted his pocket. His Uncle Alphard had sent him the knife for Christmas. It was spelled to open any door, and the Marauders hadn't found one that was immune to it yet. It was still only February and the novelty of having it hadn't worn off yet. Sirius took it everywhere and was, at this moment, unspeakably grateful for it. If he lived through this, his uncle was getting a large bottle of Firewhisky as a thank-you gift.

In a sudden movement, Sirius felt James pull him into a fierce hug. "Be careful," he mumbled into Sirius's ear, "and take care of our Moony. Don't do anything stupid."

"Stupid?" Sirius forced a tremulous smile onto his face. His stomach felt full of snakes. "Me?"

James turned to hug Peter as well. "Come back safe," he begged. "Please."

"Go," Sirius said, shoving James away from them. "Quickly. They're getting ready to move."

James blurred into Prongs and took off, elegant and ghost-like through the trees and out of sight.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Peter whispered.

In the clearing, two of the Death Eaters had their wands pointed at the cage and it began to move. From inside, one of the werewolves growled, but broke off with a whimper as the final Death Eater shot a hex through the bars. "Quiet, beast, or we'll see if the legend that transformed werewolves are immune to Avada Kedavra is true." A spiteful laugh emerged from behind the mask he wore. "I suspect it is not."

"That's Rodolphus Lestrange," Sirius whispered to Peter. "I'd know his voice anywhere. He was the bane of my childhood. I'll bet one of those others is Rabastan."

"Rabastan?"

"His brother. They were like the duo of evil when we were young. Come on."

The two Death Eaters directed the cage down a wider track on the far side of the clearing. Greyback disappeared into the shadows ahead.

"Transform quick and hang onto my ruff," Sirius hissed, then transformed himself while Wormtail obeyed, his sharp little rat-claws clinging to the thick fur as Sirius skirted around the edge of the clearing, keeping to the thick brush.

They followed the Death Eaters for about an hour, staying off the path and feeling unspeakably relieved that Greyback was leading the way. His sense of smell and sharp ears would probably have alerted him to their presence immediately. Sirius could just make out the huddled mass of fur at one end of the cage, but could not, in the dim light, count how many werewolves were inside. He had no idea how they were going to get close enough to the cage to unlock it unseen, even with the aid of his knife. He would have given up pretty much anything to have the invisibility cloak at this point.

Eventually, they arrived at another clearing, this one larger than the last. A rough circle of logs had been set up in the middle, with a circle of stones in the centre. As they arrived in the clearing, one of the Death Eaters aimed his wand at the circle of stones and a bright, warm fire sprang up inside. Sirius guessed that this was the 'base' that had been mentioned earlier – the place from which the portkey would activate at dawn. He glanced at the sky. They only had a couple of hours to rescue Remus before he was taken from them for good. The thought left him numb with horror, which he forcefully shoved to the edge of his mind. Not going to happen.

"Bloody freezing out here," complained the Death Eater who wasn't a Lestrange brother. He stalked over to the fire where Greyback was already lounging. The huge wolf snapped at the Death Eater's ankles as he passed, causing the man to yelp and cast a hex in Greyback's direction. The purple light appeared to have little effect as it sank into the werewolf's fur.

"Keep those cursed teeth away from me, Fenrir, I'm warning you," the wizard snapped.

Greyback yawned lazily, unbothered by the threat.

"Your turn to watch the beasts, Rab," Rodolphus told his brother, giving him a shove in the direction of the cage.

"No way," Rabastan protested. "Why should it be me?"

"Because I'll curse your balls off and feed them to a viper if you don't," said Rodolphus, demonstrating the typical brotherly love shared by most Pure-blood siblings. "Plus I'm older. Get to it, brother."

Rabastan hesitated, then visibly twitched as his brother aimed his wand in the direction of his groin. Apparently it hadn't been an empty threat. "Fine, fine. You know, it'll serve you right when I poison you in your sleep one of these days, Rodolphus."

"I'd like to see you try, _brother_," said Rodolphus, turning his back and strolling toward the fire.

Rabastan watched him, frustrated fury in every line of his body, before stalking over to the cage. He shot a vicious-looking curse through the bars and laughed shortly in satisfaction when one of the trapped werewolves yelped. Sirius felt his own body stiffen in anger.

He backed away from the edge of the clearing and shook Peter off his shoulders. The little rat tumbled to the ground with an indignant squeak and blurred back into Peter's human form. "You git, Padfoot!"

"Shut up," Sirius whispered. "We've got to think of a way to get rid of Rabastan so we can get to the cage."

"Can't we stun him?"

"No. Those robes and that mask are better than a suit of armour. They'll be warded against all the normal hexes and curses. Only the really dark ones would get through, and neither of us knows any of those that would silence him quietly."

They sat quietly for a few moments, both minds searching for a solution.

"Can we do something to distract him?" Peter asked. "Nothing that would cause him to raise an alarm, just something that would get him looking away from the cage door long enough for us to open it."

Sirius frowned, tapping his wand against his teeth in thought as a plan began forming in his mind. "He's superstitious. Very superstitious. And Rodolphus used to mock him about it all the time. We could distract him with something he saw as an omen, but he wouldn't raise the alarm because Rodolphus would probably feed his balls to a viper if he did."

Peter's face lit up. "The Grim," he said.

Sirius looked at him in rare admiration. "Oh, mate. That is a proper wicked brain you got there."

"Keep to the shadows, mostly," Peter said. "Your eyes reflect the light, so shut them if he shines his wand in your direction. It'll be like you're appearing and disappearing."

"Yeah. I'll try and get him away from the cage. You scuttle up as Wormtail and open the door – here, take the knife – and tell the werewolves to creep out as quiet as possible. Make sure Moony gets out first. Do _not _let him be all self-sacrificing."

"I won't."

"I mean it, Wormtail." Sirius said, and even now he felt as though his heart was being crushed out of shape as it squeezed through his ribcage in an effort to get to Remus. "Don't you let anyone else out first."

"I won't, Padfoot. I swear."

"On your magic."

"Merlin, Sirius, I'm his friend too, you know."

"Swear it, Pete."

"All right, all right. I swear on my magic." A string of light slipped from the tip of his wand and circled his wrist.

Sirius felt himself relax. "Okay. As soon as he moves away, yeah?" He blurred into Padfoot and slipped back to the edge of the clearing closest to the cage. Hopefully, the brightness of the fire would ruin the other Death Eaters' night vision enough that they would not notice anything amiss until too late.

It was a delicate operation. Sirius hovered in the bushes watching Rabastan's black-robed figure pace up and down beside the cage. Because of the mask, it was difficult to tell where the wizard's eyes were focussed, but every time his face was turned in the right direction, Sirius made sure he stepped forward just enough that his outline would be visible in the shadows.

It took a few attempts, but he knew the moment Rabastan caught sight of him, because the Death Eater froze suddenly, all his body language straining in Sirius's direction. His wand was up and he cast _lumos_ before Sirius could react. He knew he now stood out starkly from the shadows.

Rabastan let out a soft exclamation of horror and glanced over his shoulder towards the other Death Eaters. As soon as his face turned away, Sirius backed into the deep shadows again and shut his eyes to small slits. By the time Rabastan turned back, he had disappeared.

To Sirius's delight, Rabastan took a couple of steps in his direction, eyes searching the shadows from behind the mask. Another couple of steps.

Sirius backed up as quietly as he could and moved a little further away from the cage. Then he stepped back out into the moonlight again. Rabastan visibly jumped as he caught sight of Sirius again, appearing to be frozen in fear. The light from his glowing wand was trembling. Sirius bared his teeth in a snarl and Rabastan actually _dropped _his wand in shock.

The _lumos_ flickered out, plunging them into darkness, and only Padfoot's sharp night vision allowed him to spot the little rat scampering across the bare ground of the clearing towards the door of the cage. He could hear Rabastan's broken, terrified breathing as he scrambled round in the dirt for his wand.

Sirius backed back into the shadows and, in a moment of inspiration, shimmered back into his human form and cast a silent spell on his throat to deepen his voice to the hollow, graveyard moan they had used to terrify Peeves into thinking the Bloody Baron was after him in their second year.

"Rabasssssstan…." Sirius called softly. "Death comessssss for you…"

A harsh sob escaped from Rabastan's chest, and Sirius saw his clumsy hand fall on his wand. He quickly blurred back into Padfoot and backed further into the shadows. When he cast _lumos _again, all Rabastan's attention was away from the cage, which was a good thing because Peter's plump form was clearly visible at the door, bent over the lock. Rabastan swept the light of the wand back and forth over the bushes at the edge of the clearing. Sirius allowed it to flash over him a couple of time, but crouched back again when Rabastan brought the light back to settle on the place where he had glimpsed Padfoot's sharp-eared, bear-like shape.

"I'm not afraid of you!" Rabastan sobbed quietly, in the face of all evidence.

The cage door clicked and swung open with a clink that Sirius disguised with a low growl.

"Show yourself!" the Death Eater demanded in a harsh whisper, the sharp smell of fear-sweat clear to Padfoot's sensitive nose even with the few metres between them. "I've killed people. I'm not afraid of you!"

Dark, silent shapes began to slink out of the cage, flit across the clearing, and disappear into the depths of the forest. Sirius could have cried with relief.

He slunk further back and growled again, keeping Rabastan's attention on him until the last werewolf had slipped into the shadows and disappeared.

Rabastan stumbled towards him again, the conflict in his body clear – half of him wanted to run, half of him didn't dare risk letting the Grim out of his sight. The wandlight flicked back and forth, back and forth.

Sirius slunk further and further into the shadows until he had gone from Rabastan's sight completely, then he loped off as quickly as he could in the direction the wolves had taken. To his unutterable relief, Moony and Peter were waiting for him, eyes wide in the darkness.

"Quick," Peter muttered. "The moment they know we're gone, Greyback'll be after our scent." He transformed into Wormtail and scuttled over to Sirius, crawling up to settle with clinging claws in his thick ruff.

They took off as fast as Moony and Padfoot could run, heading back the way they had come, towards Hogwarts. Sirius had never run so fast for so long in his life. His lungs burned and his paws were stung and cut by stones and plants that he could not take the time to avoid.

They ran and ran and ran, for what seemed like hours. Sirius knew they had taken a wrong turn somewhere because he was sure they should have reached the clearing where Remus had been caught by now. Above them, the sky was beginning to lighten, but it was only when Moony let out a pained yowl and stumbled over his paws that they slowed.

Sirius turned back to see the werewolf writhing on the ground, growls and whimpers of agony tearing from a quickly transforming throat. He blurred back to human and hurried over to Remus, who was screaming and scrabbling on the dirty ground as bones cracked, skin twisted, fur shrank back.

Eventually it was just human Remus again, lying naked, shivering, and hiccough-panting on the rough ground.

"Oh, Moony…" Sirius dropped to his knees, tugging his outer robe off his shoulders and gathering Remus up in it.

"Pads?" Remus's eyes were glassy and unfocussed, his mouth a little slack in a way that Sirius immediately recognised as Post-Moon Remus. He swore softly. How could there be Post-Moon Remus? He was meant to _keep_ his mind this moon! But the Blood Moon was gone, and the crack between the wolf and Remus's human self was still there, forced open, as ever, by the pain of the transformation back to human. Wolf-mind seeped through and mixed with Remus's.

"It's okay, Moony," he whispered, wishing it was. "We just need to walk for a little while, okay?"

"What're we going to do?" Peter whimpered from behind Sirius. "I have no idea where the school is from here! And God knows how close they are behind us."

The sky was orange-flecked iron grey with dawn.

"It's east of the forest," Sirius said. "Do a 'point me' spell."

Peter muttered to himself, wand balanced on his hand as Sirius turned his attention back to Remus. Wide amber eyes stared back. "Why out, Pa'foo? Where bad alpha?"

Sirius winced. "Greyback's gone," he said, hoping he wasn't lying. "You're safe now. We just have to get back."

"Chocl't?" Remus asked hopefully.

Sirius thought his heart might break. "Sorry, babe. Not here. You'll have to wait until we get back."

"This way," Peter said, pointing east.

"There they are!" said another voice, and Sirius knew he had never drawn his wand more quickly. They were frozen in a tableau for a few seconds: Sirius's and Peter's wands pointed towards the voice, Remus tensed and growling wolf-low and feral against Sirius's side.

Then time moved again and it was Dumbledore and Pomfrey and McGonagall and James, and Sirius had never been gladder to see anyone in his entire _life_. They converged on the three of them and, for the first time since he'd turned six, Sirius was glad to let the grown-ups take over, even though he was nearly seventeen and should be feeling grown-up himself.

Remus was lured a little way away from him with chocolate so Pomfrey could check him over, and James hurried over to crouch by his side, muttering quickly into Sirius's ear. "I told them we were out with Moony 'cause of Blood Moon. Out as humans, I mean. I said we followed him into the forest when he ran there to try and get him back and that's when they caught him. We're in for a right bollocking, I can tell you that."

Sirius couldn't even bring himself to care. They were safe. They were _safe_, and Moony was safe, and even if the Death Eaters did find them now, none of them would have the balls to face off against three Hogwarts staff members, one of whom was Dumbledore. He felt almost dizzy with relief and everything was going fuzzy round the edges.

"…into shock," a blurry sort of voice was suddenly saying in his ear. "Here – drink this, lad."

A vial of something sickly sweet was thrust at his mouth, and an old sock was thrust into his hand. Before he could register what was happening, there was the sharp tug at his navel of a portkey activating and he found himself sprawled on the floor of the Hospital Wing.

Sirius felt himself slump forward, tears streaming from his eyes unstoppably. It was done.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The adults let him stay with Remus, who was fretful and frightened and didn't really know what was going on, except that the 'bad alpha' had tried to take him away from Sirius. As soon as he was asleep, though, Sirius, James and Peter were hauled up to the headmaster's office and subjected to the bollocking James had predicted.

Sirius barely took any of it in. He suspected he was still in shock. The helpless, blind panic that he hadn't allowed himself to feel when Remus was captured had hit him now, and everything else that was going on had to find its way past that before Sirius registered it. He could not even have said what their punishment was.

He assumed they must have been dismissed, because the next thing he was aware of was James and Peter tugging him through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room, and up the stairs to their dorm. Someone pushed him onto his bed and wrapped a blanket clumsily around his shoulders, followed by a skinny arm. It was only then he realised he was trembling.

"Padfoot, mate, you gotta snap out of this," James said, giving him a little shake with the arm that was around his shoulders. "The way you were clinging onto Moony, and the way you've just gone all…" he gestured to Sirius's hunched, shivering form, "well – they're going to guess he's more to you'n just a mate."

"Mates are allowed to care," Sirius snapped. He felt James flinch against his side. "I'm allowed to care that they nearly took him. That he was so scared. That I nearly lost h-him." The last word was broken with a weird hiccoughy breath that he couldn't have kept in if he tried.

"Course you are," James agreed, arm tightening around Sirius's shoulders. "Of _course _you are. But only here, Padfoot. You know you can't afford to let anyone out there know. You know what'll happen if people find out about you two. People don't get it, you know? They don't get you two."

Sirius couldn't think of anything to say to that. It was the truth, plain and simple.

James tilted his head against Sirius's, messy black hair mingling with Sirius's own: comforting, brotherly. "I'm just trying to protect you," he mumbled. "You and Moony both. Pete and I covered for you with Dumbledore, but it was a close one."

"I know," Sirius said, voice cracking again. "I'll get it together." He looked up to see Peter perched on the bed, face bleached white with residual fear, eyes worried as he regarded Sirius. "You were pretty awesome, Wormtail," he added.

Peter actually jumped in surprise at being suddenly included in the conversation. The corner of his mouth tipped tremulously into a smile, waiting for the punch line. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, forcing a smile back. "I know you were bloody terrified, but you snuck into a clearing full of armed Death Eaters and released a cageful of werewolves. It was proper Marauderly."

Peter's smile grew and he sat up a little straighter. "I made them let Moony out first, just like you said," he asserted.

"I know, Pete." And Sirius did know. A small part of him was horrified that he'd actually made Peter swear on his magic. If he hadn't been able to keep his word, the consequence would have been horrific. "No one can ever say you don't belong in Gryffindor now. I really owe you one."

"Well," Peter shrugged, a glint of humour in his eyes. "If one day I'm in desperate need of escape, I'll remember that and hold you to it."

"You do that."

Outside the window, it started to rain, heavy and unrelenting from a leaden sky. James's arm slipped from around his shoulders and Sirius felt hollow and cold.


	81. Avoiding the Splinch

**A/N: A slighter quicker update for a change! Hope you all enjoy it. Many thanks to my wonderful beta, badgerlady. Without her you would be wading through typos and architectural inaccuracies (turns out I had no idea what a flying buttress actually was. Beauty and the Beast let me down). Moonsign xxx **

**Warning: Sex scene. It's not very graphic, but feel free to skip it if you want to.**

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Remus ached. All over. It was both the ache of transformation and the ache of having spent too much time straining muscles as you run for your life. As he swam reluctantly up into consciousness, the events of the previous night played out behind his eyeballs in vivid detail. The only part of it he was hazy on was the couple of hours post-transformation when he'd been reduced to his child-like post-moon self. And wasn't that just vastly unfair? That even Blood Moon couldn't heal the permanent crack in the border between himself and the wolf enough to save him that humiliation for just one night.

He opened his eyes to the familiar sight of the Hospital Wing ceiling – four stately groin arches decorated with some rather disturbingly Gothic stone filigree. He could probably draw even the most complicated designs from memory.

"All right, Moony?" Sirius's voice came from beside him, sounding rather thick with sleep.

It was late evening, Remus realised – late evening of the day after his transformation, the moon-pull on his bones informed him. He let his head fall to the side, even this small movement sending sharp aches of protest across his shoulders. Sirius was curled up on one of the uncomfortable Hospital Wing chairs, squinting at him through sleep-puffed eyes.

"'M fine." Remus said. "Well, you know: post-moon fine. Does Madame Pomfrey know you're here?"

Sirius gave a shadow of his cocky grin. "We have an agreement. I pretend to sneak in here after hours and she pretends not to see me. Besides, I needed my dressings changed." He held up his hands, which were bandaged from palm to fingers.

Remus blinked. "What's that? What happened to your hands?"

"Same thing that happened to yours, Moony-bamboony. Legging it over rough ground through the Forbidden Forest for a couple of hours in canine form will do that to a person."

Raising his own hands to his face, Remus blinked at the bandages swaddling them. He wriggled his toes and felt them constricted by matching bandages. "How did you explain that?" he asked, nodding to Sirius's hands.

"I fell over. A lot. Not sure they really believed me, but the truth didn't even occur to them. I have the feeling Madame Pomfrey thought I was trying to do an injury-sharing spell – as if I didn't know that can only be achieved with a very complicated and expensive _Dolor Socius _potion."

Remus stared at Sirius's hands, his befuddled mind still piecing together the events that had left them slashed and raw. He felt his own hands and feet twinge in memory – flying past trees, leaping logs and ditches, tearing through patches of nettles and brambles that stung and tore at his fur and flesh. And all the time the terrifying, horrific certainty that _he_ was right there behind them: Greyback, sire, bad alpha, ready to rip and slaver and bite until everything was gone but the wolf.

"…oony? Moony!"

Remus blinked up at Sirius's face, which hovered over him, pale and worried. Remus was panting, he realised, and trembling all over.

"Are you okay? Are you, Moony? Shall I get Pomfrey?"

"No," Remus mumbled quickly. "N-nothing like that. Just…r-remembering."

Sirius slipped off his chair and knelt at the edge of the bed, bandaged hand reaching out to stroke over Remus's hair. "Don't remember," he said. "Don't remember."

"Blood Moon. I can't help it. I had my own mind, Pads. I thought for sure I was dead when I was fighting him, and then they put me in that c-cage and I wished I _was_ dead, because you've heard what Voldemort's werewolves are forced to do, and I know I could never l-live with myself if they made me do that to someone. And I couldn't see where you three had gone and I just kept hoping and hoping you'd got away safe and that they hadn't just killed you." He smiled at Sirius. "But I should never underestimate the Marauders, huh? When I saw Pete there…I just couldn't believe my eyes."

"Yeah. Ol' Wormtail is a real sight for sore eyes."

"He just kept saying, 'Moony first, Moony first,' until the others figured out who Moony was and shoved me forward. I was too shocked to move."

"I made him promise." Sirius stroked his padded fingers over Remus's silver-streaked hair, the gentleness of his touch at odds with the fierceness in his eyes. "Moony first, I said."

"He would have put me first anyway, Padfoot. I'm sure of it."

"'Course he would. He's a Marauder. He'd die for us, just like we'd die for him. But I had to make sure," Sirius's lips tightened and his eyes gleamed liquid in the lamplight, "because he's not in love with you and I am. Sometimes I think it warps the world all around me until all I can see is you and you're all that matters, and I know that's wrong and selfish, but I can't help it."

"Oh please," Remus scoffed gently, although he knew exactly how Sirius felt and felt just as frightened by it. "You'd have done the same for James. Or Pete. Or even Lily."

"Well, yeah. But I wouldn't have felt quite so much like I was being gutted with a rusty trowel while I was doing it."

"Daft mutt." Remus turned his face into Sirius's hand and pressed his lips to his injured fingers, bringing a crooked smile to Sirius's face.

"Guilty as charged."

Outside the window, the iron-dark evening clouds grumbled and spat out small splashes of water that hit the glass sporadically. As the rain grew heavier, footsteps clattered down the corridor outside the Hospital Wing as students headed back towards their common rooms. It was only a few minutes away from curfew and Sirius showed no sign of moving, continuing his stroking of Remus's hair without a break. Remus watched him through half-closed eyes, the pain-edged comfort making him woozy.

Sirius chuckled. "I love you like this."

"Like what? Tied up with bandages to an extent that I can't escape you when you get too ridiculous?"

"No." Sirius's voice was thoughtful. "Unshielded. Unguarded. Lying there and enjoying a good petting."

"Are you calling me a petting-whore?"

"Well, if the shoe fits…"

Remus half-heartedly batted at Sirius's knee with a bandaged hand. "Says Padfoot, king of ear-skritching whores."

"Oh please. Like anyone with an ounce of canine in them can resist a good ear-skritching." He moved his hand down to Remus's ears to demonstrate and Remus couldn't help leaning into it. Sirius grinned.

"Shut up."

"Didn't say anything."

Lightning flickered across the sky and one of the Hospital Wing lanterns burned out, leaving the ward dimly lit and more shadowy than ever.

"Did I miss anything while I was unconscious?"

"Nothing much," Sirius said, with deliberate casualness.

"Padfoot…"

"Leave it be, Moony. I'll tell you when you're feeling better."

"Tell me now."

Sirius frowned at him and Remus knew he would break. Sirius knew it, too.

"Pippa Birtwhistle."

"Ravenclaw? Fourth year?"

"Yeah. She's a half-blood. Her mother's a Muggle. Her dad's a magical portrait artist – nothing to do with the Ministry or the war or anything. But somehow the Death Eaters got wind of the fact he was away for a couple of days on a job, and they attacked Mrs Birtwhistle in her house. Her sister and mother were staying with her to keep her company. They tortured all of them with _Cruciatus_ and then killed them with a flaying curse. Her dad came home to find them like that."

"F-flayed?" Remus felt sick to his stomach.

"Completely. Some bastard at the _Prophet_ got hold of the details and published them in this morning's paper. Pippa just broke down completely. Went totally catatonic. That's why you're in the main ward, not the private room. They've got her in there."

Remus turned his face into Sirius's palm, a sense of great hopelessness rising in him.

"How can the Ministry fight against people like this?" he whispered. "How can we stop Voldemort when it seems like he literally has no boundaries?"

"I don't know, Moony. People are now saying he's found some sort of invincibility spell. Some kind of ancient dark magic that means he can't be killed, even with an Unforgivable. It can't be true, of course. No one can beat death, but it's got people scared. And scared people do stupid things."

"And brave things," Remus pointed out.

"But mostly stupid."

Down at the other end of the ward, behind the closed door to the private room, Pippa started screaming – high pitched and terrified, sharp and jagged like cracked porcelain. Madame Pomfrey emerged from her office holding a lantern. She didn't even glance their way as she hurried to the door, opened it, and slipped inside. The screaming cut off abruptly and the silence yawned in the shadows.

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It was a week later and the Marauders had barely made a dent in the detentions they now owed.

"I am never eating Droobles gum again," James declared, as he hacked at yet another dried lump of the stuff on the upturned desk in the Transfiguration classroom. "This is disgusting. What if this bit was in Snivellus's mouth?"

Sirius made a retching noise beside him. "Don't even joke about that, mate. Besides, Moony's doing the desk Snape usually sits at."

Peter, James and Sirius turned to look at Remus, who glanced up at them and shrugged. Because they were meant to be cleaning the desks without magic, they had been provided with little hammers and chisels and he's been quite enjoying the mindless monotony of the task after the last couple of weeks of excitement. There was such a thing as soap and cleansing charms.

"Doesn't it bother you?" Peter asked.

"If you spent less time complaining about it and more time actually doing it, we'd probably be finished by now," Remus said. He tucked the chisel under a piece of dried gum, picked up the hammer and tapped the end. The gum unstuck and skittered across the floor.

"You have an unfair advantage," Sirius complained. "None of the rest of us have werewolf strength. We have to hack at it for hours before it budges."

"Which is why I have now done four desks and you lot are still on one. Come on, Pads. There's chocolate mousse for pudding tonight and I don't want to miss it."

"Moony and his chocolate," James said, grinning. "Hey, Remus, if you do my desks I'll give you my pudding."

Remus wavered, tempted by the offer.

"Hey, no fair," Sirius said. "He's my boyfriend. He should do mine."

"I asked first."

"I've still got that box of Honeydukes my aunt gave me for Christmas, Moony," Peter butted in. "Up for offer at the bargain price of three gum-coated desks."

"No, you don't," James said. "I saw Moony and Padfoot munching on them last week."

"What? No, you didn't." Sirius protested.

"Yeah," Remus agreed. "We were well hidden."

"Those were from my _aunt_."

"Give it up, Pete," Sirius waved his hand dismissively. "We all know you hate Turkish Delight, and you were going to give 'em to Moony anyway."

"For a _price_."

"You can't put a price on friendship, Wormtail."

"Yeah, right. You told me only yesterday that the price of being friends with you lot was having to watch you 'n Moony emerge from one bed every morning with sex-hair."

"Oh, like that's a hardship."

They were interrupted by a tapping sound from the window and turned to see Brutus hovering outside, carrying a bulky package. James, glad of the distraction, stood up to let the Anders's owl in, and the large bird few over to drop the package in Remus's lap before perching on his knee. Hamish's head emerged from Remus's pocket as the hedgehog, with characteristic disregard for his own safety, tried to nudge Brutus off again.

"Angela's brownies," Remus said, without even needing to open the package. His sense of smell was more than sharp enough to pick up the delicious aroma. "Looks like I won't need to work for my chocolate kick after all."

"Damn the timely arrival of home-baked treats," Peter sighed.

Remus unfolded the letter that had arrived with the package and scanned it, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

"What is it?" Sirius asked.

"They want me to go back for Easter so I can travel to Rome with them."

"But we were all going to be here for Easter," Sirius's face crumpled in disappointment and Remus's chest constricted in response.

"Why Rome?" asked Peter.

"The Wolfsbane project, of course." James cuffed him round the back of his head. "Honestly, Wormtail, I'm surprised you remember to get out of bed in the morning without a reminder."

"Are you going to go?" Remus could tell Sirius was making a concerted effort to sound like he didn't care either way. He was failing.

"I think I should," he said apologetically. "Neal and Angela – they've given up so much for me and don't ask for much back. I feel like I owe this to them."

"Yes, well…just don't let them test any experimental potions on you, okay?"

"Wouldn't dream of it." Remus reached out to clasp Sirius's knee. "That's a privilege reserved only for the Marauders."

"Too right, it is," agreed James.

"Now let's get on with this," Remus said, turning back to his desk and pushing Brutus off so he fluttered up to the rafters. "The less time I have to spend lurking around other people's discarded gum the better."

"You know," James said, after a few moments of resumed hacking, "I'm amazed this many people managed to slip gum past old Minnie in the first place."

"Maybe they didn't," Sirius said. "Maybe she sits here of an evening feasting on dozens of packs of Drooble's finest and just sticks it all to the bottom of the desks so she has something to assign students for detention."

They all dwelled on the image of Professsor McGonagall sitting primly behind her desk, marking, chewing and blowing the occasional turquoise bubble.

"Bloody hell," said James.

"So this is professor-gob?" Peter asked. "That's almost worse than Slytherin-gob."

"What's the matter, Wormy?" Sirius asked. "Afraid you'll get infected with intelligence?"

"He should be," said James. "I'm not sure his brain could handle it. It might explode."

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The last few weeks leading up to Easter sped by, leaving Remus reeling. This was partly due to Remus's reluctance to be going to Rome over the holidays, and partly due to the introduction of Apparition lessons for Hogwarts's sixth year students. The posters announcing the arrival of the instructors had been displayed three weeks before the end of term.

"It's really unfair," Peter said, as they made their way to the Great Hall for their first lesson. "Last year's sixth years got to learn right at the beginning of the year."

"My dad says it's because the Ministry is snowed under dealing with the Voldemort situation," said James. "They're really short of people to protect Muggles and half-bloods and their families. They're pushing novice Aurors out on the field before they're properly qualified and dragging in people from other departments to fill in gaps. I guess teaching a bunch of adolescents to Apparate pales in comparison."

That was the truth of it, Remus thought. They were playing at normalcy – lessons, career plans, dating, learning to Apparate – but the truth was their whole world was on the brink of war.

"Teaching us to Apparate _is_ important," argued Sirius, whose thoughts had clearly been along the same lines as Remus. "We're the next generation. Only a year and a term until we graduate and then the world is in our hands. How can we protect it if we can't even Apparate?"

They arrived at the Great Hall to find it thronged with sixth year students already. They were all clustered just inside the main doors and the Marauders pushed their way to the front to see what the excited chatter was about. When he caught a glimpse of the room itself, Remus stopped and stared. All the House and staff tables had been cleared from the hall, and the room looked even more massive than it usually did. What caught the eye, however, were the four large, gleaming targets that now decorated the stone slab floor.

The targets were decorated in house colours and above each one, an hourglass hung – smaller versions of the massive ones that kept track of House points. Remus, along with the other Gryffindor sixth years, shuffled over to examine 'their' red and gold target more closely. It was made up of rings of colour, and on each of the rings an image was drawn – knife, fork, spoon, bowl, plate, cup, shoe, toothbrush, sock, hairbrush. Each of the rings was fairly narrow. If all the Gryffindor sixth years had tried to stand in one, they would be standing side by side or in single file.

"What on earth…?" Peter began, but was interrupted by a loud, piercing whistle that made Remus's ears want to bleed. At times like this he hated having sensitive werewolf hearing.

"Everyone gather round!" a deep voice bellowed from up on the dais where the professors' table usually resided.

Remus shuffled forward with the rest of the students and stared up at the two men before them. For a moment he thought he was seeing double. Heavy dragon-hide boots, black leather breeches, white shirts and short purple duelling robes that clashed hideously with two identical mops of wild ginger hair. The men were both tall, stocky and powerful-looking: stances clearly speaking of wizards who were used to working in a physically demanding job, but the image was softened somewhat by the fact that the twins had clearly been the first in line when freckles were handed out.

The men didn't look to be far out of their twenties and their grins reminded Remus of James's and Sirius's when they had a particularly brilliant prank planned.

"Prewett twins," James and Sirius breathed together reverently.

"What?" Remus whispered.

"The Prewett family pops out a set of twins every generation or so," Sirius explained, without taking his eyes off the men, "and rumour has it that they come with _fireworks_."

"Great Godric," Remus muttered, his imagination throwing up an image of Sirius and James in twelve years' time standing side by side before a mass of impressionable students. Imaginary James and Sirius were wearing grins that matched those of the Prewett twins alarmingly well.

"Greetings, Hogwartians!" one of the twins bellowed, voice enhanced with a mild _sonorous_ charm. "I am Gideon Prewett and this is my brother, Fabian. Call us by our first names, please, because we are way too young to be burdened with the title of 'Professor', although we've been known to answer to 'Mr Prewett' on occasion as well."

"We are your new Apparition instructors," Fabian continued. "Dumbledore asked us here as a favour, since the normal instructors at the Ministry are a little tied up at present."

"In some cases literally," Gideon added. "The Central Apparition Offices were targeted in a recent attack on the DMT."

"Why would someone target the Apparition Offices?" Peter whispered.

"Records," Sirius whispered back. "They'll have confidential records of every part of Britain that is under anti-Apparition wards and who the spell-casters for these were."

"Dangerous information in the wrong hands," James agreed. "Kill the spell-caster and you kill the wards. They could get in practically anywhere, unless very strong additional wards have been cast to accompany them."

"As a result," Gideon was saying, "we've going to be teaching you fine young people the ancient art of Apparition. And with us as instructors, there will be none of this namby-pambying around with hoops and chalk circles."

"Apparition is a spell of precision and determination," said Fabian. "In the fine words of Elisedd the Eloquent, the original creator of the modern Apparition spell, you need to remember the three Ds- Destination, Determination and Deliberation. It's all about focus, you see. You don't need to be an incredibly powerful wizard to do everyday Apparition, although most people will never be able to undertake trans-continental Apparition without serious danger of splinching."

"Splinching?" asked Rosalie Dainty, a Hufflepuff Muggleborn who was dainty in name only. Remus caught himself wondering, not for the first time, if she had to push two beds together in her dorm to accommodate her massive frame. She was friends with Peter's moustacheioed occasionally-on-again-but-usually-off-again Ravenclaw girlfriend, even though they were both in different Houses. James had once, rather unkindly, compared them to the left over crumbs in the bottom of a biscuit bag that all fall together in one corner when you shake them. Peter had commented that Rosalie would have been more of a whole biscuit than a crumb.

"Splinching is accidental incomplete Apparition," Gideon told them. "If you don't focus enough, or don't follow the three Ds properly, you can end up leaving bits of yourself behind. You can imagine how messy this can be if the bit you leave behind is a vital limb or organ."

"For instance," Fabian said, "Gideon and I had a mate at school who was showing off for his girl and attempted to Apparate before being properly qualified. Let's just say the bits he left behind meant he couldn't satisfy his girl in any way at all for quite a while."

A number of boys looked horrified and cupped their hands protectively over their groins.

"They eventually found his bits under a tree in the New Forest." Fabian sighed. "I'm sure most of you know that there are a fair few wild horses and centaurs living there? Well, things got a bit trampled on and our poor old mate spend three months in St Mungo's undergoing some serious reconstruction work."

They were quiet for a few seconds, looking out over the sea of horrified faces before them. Then everyone jumped as Gideon abruptly clapped his hands and a bright grin bloomed on his face again. "But you, ladies and gentlemen, don't need to worry if you follow all the rules. You are in a safe environment, and the headmaster has kindly lifted the anti-Apparition wards on the Great Hall for our lessons. We can deal with all splinches here in an efficient and timely manner, and anyone caught trying to Apparate outside of this hall and these lessons will cleaning out potions stores twelve and thirteen, which Slughorn assures us were last cleaned before the Muggles crawled out of the Dark Ages. It would probably take the rest of this year and a fair portion of next year – especially since you will be cleaning without magic."

Fabian stalked up and down the stage, his eyes scanning the huddled groups of students and he twirled his wand in one hand. "Aw – look, Gideon. We've petrified the poor mites."

"Don't be scared, lads and lasses," Gideon said, bouncing on his toes. "What's the point of fun without a bit of risk? Trust me - Fab and I are masters of fun, and you're going to be having a lot of it over the next few weeks."

"We've decided to set up your Apparition lessons as a competition," Fabian explained. "Each House has been provided with a target, and each of you will be standing exactly three metres away from the edge of your target in a circle. You will be aiming to Apparate perfectly into each of the coloured rings or bands. For each different band you get into over the course of a lesson, you earn your House two points. One if you splinch. You don't get extra points for going in the same band twice. The first person to Apparate into every single band in a row, working their way from the outside and into the bull's eye, will get a prize. Understand so far?"

Most people nodded, although Alice raised her hand. "Please, Prof-er-Mr Prewett. Why are there pictures in each of the bands?"

"Well, that's the fun bit," said Fabian with a grin. "The moment you lot walked through the door to this room, a number of small but important items vanished from your possession. These items include toothbrushes, shoes, socks, combs and hairbrushes. Your current footwear will vanish on the way out. The only way to retrieve these items for the day is to win them by Apparating on the coloured band of your House's target that contains the correct picture. You will get to keep those items for twenty-four hours until the next lesson, where you will be required to win them back again. Any items you try to acquire or borrow from an outside source will vanish before you can use them, although we will allow swopping or sharing amongst yourselves, because we're not completely heartless. You will have a lesson every day just before dinner."

"You can't do that!" Rosemary said, sounding horrified. "What if it takes ages to learn? What will I do without my hairbrush? Do you know how _awful_ my hair looks in the mornings?"

"It's called motivation, Turnabout," James said, enjoying her discomfort. None of the Marauders had much patience for either of Sirius's old girlfriends. Remus suspected it was mainly due to loyalty to him, and he felt half guilty, half grateful about it.

"What about the forks and bowls and things?" Evan Rosier demanded, jabbing a finger in the direction of the Slytherin target.

"You'll need to earn those for your mealtimes," Gideon informed him. "You'll have to eat with your fingers if you fail to earn yourself some cutlery or crockery. As Mr Potter correctly pointed out, it's all about motivation."

James grinned at him, starry-eyed at being recognised. Remus suspected it was probably only because his family were well-known pure-bloods who had a very strong gene pool running to messy hair, glasses and gangly frames and not, as he was sure James was hoping, because the twins had heard of their pranking exploits beyond Hogwarts's walls.

"This is ridiculous," Sarah Darwood from Ravenclaw argued. "You can't leave students without shoes and socks."

"Why not?" Fabian asked. "It's not that cold. And it'll give you all a chance to practise your warming and cushioning charms. Besides, it's been decided and Professor Dumbledore has agreed."

"I'm going to be shoeless for the rest of the term," Peter mourned, staring at the red and gold Gryffindor target with trepidation.

In fact, it seemed to Remus that most of Hogwarts's sixth year would probably be shoeless (and sockless, toothbrushless, hairbrushless, cutleryless and crockeryless) for at least the next few days. They formed circles around their house targets and worked hard to follow the Prewetts' instructions over the next fifteen minutes.

"You've done it before, Padfoot," James said, groaning and clicking his spine. "When you ran away from home."

Sirius frowned. "I can't really remember it. It's all a bit of a blur, to be honest. Besides – I splinched myself, remember?"

"You didn't splinch anything vital. Can't you just – "

_CRACK!_

Remus jumped and swung round to see someone teetering in the hairbrush band of the Gryffindor target. It took him a few moments to recognise Lily because she was bald. Completely bald. Wide green eyes stared at them with a mixture of shock and triumph for a few seconds before Lily's eyes fell on the mound of glossy red locks that rested on the floor where she had been standing. She let out a shriek of distress and reached up to touch her bare head.

"My _hair_!"

Laughter broke out across the hall, but Remus thought he'd never seen anything less funny in his life. Lily looked small and vulnerable standing there alone in the target with tears streaming down her face. Most of her friends were still too shocked to react, so Remus took a step towards her, but he was beaten by James, who suddenly launched himself towards Lily and yanked her back into the protective half-circle of the Marauders.

"Hey!" Alice said belatedly, scurrying across the target to help. "Get your hands off her, Potter."

"Sod off, Richards," James said tightly. "I'm not hurting her."

He pulled a sweet wrapper from his pocket and transfigured a neat red woollen hat from it, then reached up to pull it over Lily's bowed head. "There you go. Lovely as ever."

For some reason that made Lily cry harder.

"All right, all right! Move aside, Gryffindors!" Gideon was elbowing his way through the clustered student. "Fab! Get everyone else back on task, would you?" he called over his shoulder to his brother.

"Can you fix her?" Rebecca asked him tearfully, clutching Alice's hand.

"Of course I can. Fabian and I work for the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad usually. We specialise in Experimental Magic. You'll be amazed what we've seen witches and wizards get themselves into. A bit of splinched hair is no problem. What's your name, lass?"

"Lily Evans," Lily hiccoughed miserably, pulling James's hat down further over her ears with one hand. Remus was amused to see a little white woollen flower decorated one side of it. James was a complete girl sometimes.

"Well, Lily Evans, that was very impressive. I've never seen anyone take to Apparition that quickly. Don't cry."

"It's stupid, I know," she said. "But I could have coped with splinching _anything_ but my hair. I'd even have preferred an arm."

Fabian laughed. "No, you wouldn't. Trust me. But that _does_ explain it. When it comes to delicate magic like this, your fears are your weaknesses. You feared losing your hair, so you lost your hair. Not to worry, though. Come over with me to the window there and we'll sort it out for you. We can even give you a bit of a makeover while we're at it. How would you like to be curly? Or blonde?"

Lily pulled a face, tears ebbing. "I'll stick with my red, thanks."

"Too right," Fabian grinned, touching his own shockingly ginger hair. "Redheads are the best. You'll have to let go of Mr Potter's hand, though."

Everyone looked down too see that Lily's hand was, indeed, engulfed in James's larger one. Remus could see that her slender fingers were white-knuckled, they were holding on so tight. He looked up to catch sight of the rosy flush that washed over Lily's cheeks and she dropped James's hand like a hotcake. James, to Remus's amazement and relief, did not comment. He only quirked a small smile in Lily's direction before turning to Sirius with a flourish and saying, "Come on, Black. We can't be beaten by a _girl_." He nodded up to the single ruby that rested in the lower bulb of the Gryffindor hourglass. "Bet you two sickles I can beat you to a pair of socks."

"You're on, Potter," Sirius said with a grin, and the rest of the Gryffindors cheered, Lily's predicament fading into the background.

Remus hung back a little to see Lily following Fabian to an empty area under the window, looking almost ordinary with the hat pulled down. That James – _James,_ of all people – had thought to provide her with that small dignity spoke volumes about his growing maturity and Remus thought seriously, for the first time, that his friend might actually have a chance with the love of his life.

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Predictably, the Ravenclaws were in the lead by the time the lesson was over. Not so predictably, the Hufflepuffs were second. Slytherin and Gryffindor tied for last place. The weirdest thing was that nearly all the girls who had managed some sort of accuracy in their Apparition had landed on 'hairbrush'. Remus would never understand female priorities.

Out of the Marauders, it was Peter, surprisingly, who managed to Apparate first – although he did splinch off the big toenail of his left foot, which resulted in much howling and jumping round and a great deal less sympathy than Lily have received from the Marauders. Sirius claimed he had beaten the rest of them because he had less in his head and thus less to distract him from the three Ds.

Sirius, James and Remus were quick to follow, although none of them had really mastered accuracy, so they ended up popping up all over the hall, and only by chance in the Gryffindor target. Rosalie Dainty had actually Apparated right into the bullseye of the Slytherin target and promptly burst into tears. These tears were made worse by Dolahov's cutting suggestion that she make an effort to splinch some of her fat off.

Snape, to James's and Sirius's disgust, had mastered Apparition shortly after Lily and had also narrowed his field of accuracy down to within a few metres of the Slytherin target. James looked ready to burst a blood vessel when Lily beamed at the hook-nosed Slytherin and gave him a thumbs up.

By the end of the lesson, the Marauders, among them, had one pair of socks, a spoon and two forks. As they exited the Hall, everyone's shoes and socks vanished from their feet.

"I really wanted a toothbrush," Peter mourned as they hung around in the entrance hall waiting for the tables to be restored for dinner. "I hate going to bed with fuzzy teeth."

"I have mouthwash," James told him. "You can borrow some. It's really good as long as you don't mind not being able to taste anything for a couple of hours afterwards."

Remus slouched back against the wall and looked down at his feet. He hated his feet. They looked sort of sinewy and feral and ready to transform into wolf paws at any moment. Sirius always told him he was imagining things and that his feet were perfectly normal, but Remus knew werewolf-feet when he saw them. He hoped no one else in the school did.

"Here." A pair of fuzzy socks was thrust in his direction. They had fluffy pink pygmy puffs decorating the cuffs, which was apparently the Prewett twins' idea of a joke.

"No, James," Remus said, pushing them back to his friend gently. "You won them fair and square."

James shrugged. "If Evans sees me in them, she'll never think of me as a magnet for her lust. Someone may as well get some use out of them."

Remus smiled at James, awash with affection and relief. "Cheers, eh, Prongs?"

James smiled back and ruffled Remus's hair in an annoying way.

"You can share my fork," Sirius said to his best friend magnanimously as Remus hopped around on one foot pulling on the socks.

"Thanks, Pads," said James. "Though we should make some sort of plan to improve by Thursday because that's oxtail soup day."

The Marauders sighed in unison. Once a month the house elves made the best oxtail soup in the whole of Britain but tackling it with two forks, a spoon and a pair of socks was out of the question.

"We should all aim for bowl," Peter suggested, "so that at least one of us may get it. And then we should all aim for socks for Moony."

"Good plan, Wormtail," Sirius said, grinning at the plump boy.

The doors to the Great Hall creaked open again, revealing that the tables were back to normal and spread with that evening's meal.

"Right, lads." James straightened up from his slouch against the wall. "Forks and spoon at the ready? Let's go tackle some roast beef."

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"Those socks are ridiculous," Sirius told Remus, as he snuck through his bed-curtains later that evening to find the werewolf still wearing them.

"They're surprisingly comfortable," Remus said, looking down at them. They had been charmed to fit James's feet, so were a bit large on Remus's and bagged at the toes. They did look a bit ridiculous.

Sirius crawled up onto the bed and pulled Remus's feet into his lap. He grabbed the baggy toe of one sock and pulled it off before lifting the foot up and kissing the sensitive arch.

"That's my foot!" Remus tugged it out of Sirius's grasp, trying to ignore the hot tingles that travelled up his leg at the touch of lips.

"I know. And it's a positively gorgeous foot that should not be hidden by the hideousness of Prongs's second-hand socks." Sirius pulled off the other sock and Remus withdrew his foot from his hand before Sirius could think about kissing it as well.

"I draw the line at foot-kissing," he said.

Sirius pouted. "Spoilsport. You wait 'til I'm done with you and you'll be begging me to kiss you everywhere – up to and including feet and elbows."

"Elbows," Remus said, rolling his eyes, "are not one of my erogenous zones."

Sirius grabbed his arm and, before Remus could react, licked a hot wet tongue in a band from his outer elbow to the sensitive crook of his inner elbow and nipped it lightly. Remus caught his breath and tried not to pant too obviously.

"You're a seventeen-year-old boy, babe," Sirius breathed against his arm. "Your whole body is an erogenous zone."

Remus couldn't really deny that, so he settled for pulling Sirius up by his hair and kissing him on the mouth. Sirius did not seem to mind and participated enthusiastically, wriggling round like an excited puppy until he was pressed full-body against Remus, his arousal evident.

"I'm going to miss you over Easter," Remus breathed into Sirius's mouth, stroking his hand through tangled black hair.

Sirius nipped and licked his way down to Remus's neck and then sucked on it. "Me too," he said, pulling back and blowing on the mark in a way he knew made Remus ache and squirm with desire. "Let's make the most of these last couple of weeks, yeah?"

He sat up and tugged at Remus's pyjamas until Remus batted his hands away and undressed. Sirius watched him, eyes dark and cheeks flushed. He looked like the front cover off one of those romantic novels that seemed to be an essential part of every Gryffindor girl's school bag over the last couple of years. The thought that Remus was the only person who got to see Sirius like this – flushed, ruffled and aroused – suddenly hit him like a pepper-up shot directly to his groin.

Remus tugged his boxers off impatiently, then pounced on Sirius, using a little of his werewolf strength to manipulate Sirius's unresisting body as he undressed him. A few minutes later, Sirius was naked on his back, pupils blown wide and all-out panting. Remus crouched over him in a position that he only belatedly realised was a little wolf-like.

"Merlin, that was hot," Sirius breathed, a rather dazedly.

"Yeah?"

"Utterly and totally."

Remus relaxed and sat back. Straight onto Sirius's groin. A certain part of Sirius's anatomy nudged at a part of Remus's that had never been nudged by anything except tentative fingers before. A hot wave of arousal washed over Remus and he gasped. Sirius's hand reached up to clutch at his arm, body shuddering.

This was it, Remus thought. The only thing they hadn't yet done. It felt right tonight and Remus was overcome with a mixture of anticipation and nerves.

"W-will you…" he started then wasn't sure how to continue.

"You want to?" asked Sirius, who had spoken fluent Remus for many years now.

"God, yeah."

They had read enough by this point to know what they needed to do. Remus crawled off Sirius to reach into his drawer for a small bottle of healing lotion that they had discovered was usefully oily. He pulled it out and handed it to Sirius, who sat back on his heels and dipped his fingers into it. Remus rolled onto his back and spread his legs, causing Sirius to make a noise that sounded rather like a hiccough and press the heel of his hand to his groin.

"I hope you're not banking on stamina, Moony," he joked breathlessly.

Remus smiled. "I'll not get my hopes up."

Sirius knelt between his legs and trailed a finger down and _in _and Remus gasped and arched as pleasure-burn flooded through him. Leaning over him, Sirius studied his face for signs of discomfort. Remus opened his eyes and looked up at him. He smiled.

"Hey, good-looking."

"You okay?" Sirius asked, lips quirking.

"More than okay. Keep going. Hurry. _Please._"

Sirius, however, took it ridiculously slowly, even though he knew Remus kind of liked the stretch-and-burn. It wasn't even that necessary, since they were using healing lotion that pretty much ensured any pain was minimal. By the time he pushed in, both of them were nearly at their limit and it was the idea of Sirius actually _inside_ him as much as the feeling itself that sent Remus off after only two thrusts. His whole world exploded in a shower of sparks that fell through his body and lit him on fire. Sirius managed one more thrust before it was over for him as well.

He flopped forward, panting and shuddering, and Remus let him lie there even though he was heavy and making it hard to breathe, because this moment was precious and meant to be savoured.

"Have I killed you?" Sirius asked eventually into Remus's hair.

"You wish, Black."

Sirius raised his head and looked down at Remus with the most brilliant, open, joyful smile Remus had ever seen on his face. It actually stopped his heart for a few seconds. Remus couldn't have prevented the answering smile even if he'd wanted to.

"You," said Sirius, "are the dearest, most extraordinarily wonderful person I've ever had the privilege to meet and I have no idea what I did to deserve you."

"You were yourself," Remus told him. "Against all the odds you were yourself and _are_ yourself and always _will be_ yourself and I love you. So, so much."

And then, because he was seventeen and male and allergic to being serious for any length of time, Sirius's smile widened into a lecherous grin and he added; "I'm also a great shag."

"Well, possibly," Remus said, shifting and shuddering a little when Sirius slipped out of him. "I can't be sure, you see, because I blinked and must have missed it."

"That's it." Sirius sat up. "I'm off to shag Prongs. He would appreciate my awesomeness a great deal more than you."

"He probably would," Remus agreed. "He hasn't been laid in, like, ever. You'd only have to give him a saucy wink and the job would be done."

Sirius collapsed back in helpless laughter and Remus grinned and curled in closer to his shaking side. He felt, for the first time since That Night, when the wolf had ripped flesh from bone and mother from son, completely whole and comfortable in his own skin.


End file.
